Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
He waited for her answer, breath held, not daring to hope she’d say yes.
Granted, they each bore a soul mark, but his Elizabeth was a fiercely independent woman and would chafe at a forced marriage.
She shifted and raised herself up onto one elbow to look at him.
He loved how her hair had escaped its pins and glorious curls cascaded about her neck and shoulders.
He couldn’t stop himself from hardening.
Her eyes widened and he gave a small shrug of his shoulders as though to say, I can’t help it.
He rolled her onto her back and stared intently into her eyes. Shards of silver once again encircled her pupils, but this time he knew it was not from anger.
“Will you marry me, dearest Elizabeth?” he asked once again and barely stopped himself from swooping down to kiss her when her mouth parted to answer.
“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed. It is natural that obligation should be felt...” she tilted her hips so he’d push deeper. “...and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you.”
“You would, would you?”
“Most heartily and with great repetition.”
“Once again, Miss Bennet, I would not suspend any pleasure of yours.” He partially withdrew before sheathing himself again, relishing her exquisite gasp.
“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honor of expecting?” he growled before sliding his hand toward the apex of her thighs where he found her hidden gem.
With one, slow tormenting swipe, he purred, “I await your answer, Miss Elizabeth.”
A whimper tore from her throat before she cried out, “Yes! A thousand times yes.”
Thank God. The lighthearted mood they now enjoyed evaporated as he dedicated himself to bringing Elizabeth untold raptures. While he was no practiced seducer, he did know how to pleasure a woman and not just pound at her body seeking his own pleasure.
He kissed her hard, a mesh of lips, teeth and tongues.
He couldn’t get enough of her and while still stroking her tiny nub he took her breast in his mouth and with each thrust of his hips, each slide of his fingers, each lover’s bite on the soft underside of her breasts, he staked his claim.
He shifted over her and captured her mouth.
As they reached the pinnacle, he said against her willing lips, “You are mine, Elizabeth. Always.”
Darkness had enveloped the room when he finally stirred.
Elizabeth still lay curled against him, her head nuzzled upon his chest, one small hand laid trustingly across his heart.
Although he’d shown her the intimate side of love, she remained a picture of innocence.
With slow, steady movements, he eased himself from her side and slid on his robe.
He moved to the adjoining room and cleansed all evidence of their lovemaking, wincing slightly at the sight of Elizabeth’s blood.
He then sought out Richard with his senses.
It had come to him, prior to fully awakening, that Elizabeth had transported into his room in spite of it being heavily warded.
Such feats of magic simply were not possible, yet, once again she defied everything he knew.
Where have you been?
The angry thoughts of Richard came through loud and clear.
I am in London.
Memories of him and Elizabeth caused him to harden once again. Would he ever tire of her? He thought not.
Do you know I have been trying to reach you for nigh unto five hours? I have news of Wickham.
If Richard’s anger was not enough to squelch his desire, the very mention of Wickham finished the job.
Has he finally run up enough debts that he needs to leave Meryton?
Not yet, however, that’s not what I wished to discuss.
Very well, but be brief, I have a favor to ask of you.
More than trailing after Wickham like a lost lover?
Yes. What did you want to tell me?
There was a pause, as though Richard was not alone and conversing with another person. Something both cousins were familiar with and it didn’t send Darcy into alarm.
He’s been spending an inordinate amount of time near St. Albans.
Do you think he found religion?
Another long pause met his query. Although a cough or snort would not come through his thoughts, Darcy knew his cousin would have at least guffawed at that and was now trying to explain to whomever he was with why he had an outburst.
He’s found a circle of standing stones and knowing his perversions, I have to assume he practicing his dark arts by the light of the moon. He has something planned, I’m not sure what.
That is unsettling.
Enough of Wickham, why did you finally reach out to me?
I have... well, it’s a delicate matter.
Oh, ho ho. Do you need me to run interference with Miss Bingley so you can escape unscathed?
No, but I do need your utmost discretion.
You can count on me. What is it?
There was no other way to break the news than in a direct manner.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet is here with me in my bedchamber.
Minutes dragged by. Finally, Richard returned.
Your library. Five minutes
Very well.
Oh, and Darcy. Make sure you are fully dressed.
What was that all about? He quickly pulled on his breeches and shirt, tucking it in after pulling on his boots.
There was no time to worry about a cravat or jacket, so he rolled the sleeves up.
After all, he was in his own home and not expecting to entertain anyone other than his cousin.
With seconds to spare, he strode into the library, pulled out two glasses and waited for Richard to appear.
He turned to greet his cousin but shock rooted him to the floor.
Beside his cousin stood Mr. Bennet, his face full of worry and anger at the same time.
“Mr. Bennet! Richard, why did you not tell me you were with Mr. Bennet when I was speaking with you?”
“There was no time. Mr. Bennet had sent a messenger to the inn where I’d been staying because he knew my father.”
“Yes, yes. It’s fine to discuss all the minute details.” Bennet interrupted, advancing further in the room. “Where is my daughter?”
“She’s upstairs, sleeping.”
“She is unharmed?”
Darcy drew himself to his full height. “Your daughter is safe with me, sir.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Have her come down, now. We leave immediately.”
“Sir, she is unable to transport as we do.”
“Ha! If you believe that, then you are an arrogant fool.” Darcy couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard him mutter, “Much like your father.”
“No, truly. I believe that somehow, in my desire for her, I somehow called her forth.”
“Desire! You desire my daughter!” Mr. Bennet drew back his hand and began to mumble. Thankfully, Richard realized what the older man intended and grabbed his arm and pulled it down to his side.
“Before you turn my cousin to whatever cursed beast you had in mind, you may want to hear his side of the story. He is an honorable man and if he said your daughter is safe, then he speaks truth. Is that not so, Darcy.” Richard held his gaze, almost willing him to agree with his words.
“I would never lie to the father of my most beloved.”
“Beloved. We’ve gone from desire to beloved in one swell swoop. Next you’ll be telling me you are soul mates.” At Darcy’s startled movement and unconscious covering of his wrist, Mr. Bennet closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Dear Lord in heaven. You are soul mates.”
Darcy glanced toward his cousin and surprised a look of what could only be called longing cross his face.
His cousin wished to find his soul mate?
He thought for sure Richard would never marry as he never dallied with any young lady other than light flirtations that guaranteed him numerous dance partners.
Although it was possible for a Miatharan’s soul mate to be human, the chances were highly improbable.
“How are we going to get Miss Elizabeth home without alerting everyone to the fact she was not at Longbourn this evening?”
Bennet began to pace. He’d start to say something, then shake his head and pace some more. After a few minutes of this he stopped and sat in one of the chairs situated by the fireplace.
“This is a fine library. I look forward to searching through your books and losing myself here for a couple of hours.”
Darcy slipped into the chair opposite Elizabeth’s father while Richard stayed positioned by the door.
“Does this mean you are willing to become my father by marriage and in turn gain a library as well as a son?”
Bennet laughed. “Aye. Both are fine additions.”
“Wait until he sees Pemberley,” Richard added from where he stood. “He might throw in another daughter.”
“Let us not get carried away. Miatharan’s do not have harems. We find our soul mate and stick.” He glanced over at the two empty glasses sitting on top of the drink table. “Add another glass and the three of us can toast your upcoming nuptials.”
“Let me, Darcy.” Richard poured out three glasses of brandy and joined them by the fireplace. He raised his glass in a toast. “To Miss Elizabeth and Darcy. May their marriage be long and fruitful.”
All three men drank and then Mr. Bennet settled back into his chair.
“Which one of you wove the protective spell about the house?”
Darcy sputtered into his drink. It appeared Mr. Bennet was the master of abstract segues.
“I did, sir.”
“Nicely done, however, when you lay the spell, don’t attach it to the home.
You must weave it around the edges of the property.
Too close, and your enemies can still use human means to harm you inside the house.
If they are stayed at the garden gate, so to speak, the risk is reduced to your loved ones and gives you time to react. ”
“I would think you would have personal knowledge of that,” came the quiet voice of Richard.