Chapter 3.4
Darcy pulled the curtains closed so nothing could be seen from the outside.
Although they were on the second floor, he would not expose Elizabeth to any prying eyes from without.
Then he blew out all the candles save one.
In a small stove, the fire was burning steadily.
Several pillows and blankets rested upon the quilt; on the table was a basin and, nearby, several towels.
The Notts had always been efficient and diligent innkeepers, careful about their guests’ needs.
Elizabeth waited in the middle of the room until Darcy reached her. Their gazes met in silence.
With tempered haste, he turned her around to unbutton her gown. He loosened it then let it drop to the floor. The petticoat, stays, and chemise followed; his fingers, warm and tender, skilfully released the buttons and eyelets, removing the wet, dirty fabric and freeing her from its cold tightness.
Then, he took the pins from her hair until it was loose on her back. He hid his face in her silky, dark hair, curly and slightly wet. His lips and tongue brushed her ear as he whispered, “Let me see your face, my love.”
Elizabeth quivered from the chill and even more from his voice and closeness. Her arms closed on her chest and she spun, slowly, until their eyes met and held again.
Darcy did not lower his gaze towards the body he had dreamed of so often; his desire was less strong than his care for her comfort. He could still keep his hunger for her under proper regulation.
Carefully, he took a towel and gently wiped her skin, then covered her with a sheet. Only then did his lips touch hers.
“Please sit.” He indicated a chair near the fireplace, and she obeyed.
He sat down on the rug and gently took off her shoes, garters, and stockings.
Her feet were wet and red, and he rubbed them in his palms, drying and warming them.
The sensation was so pleasant that a moan escaped her.
Then his lips tantalised her toes and moved up to her ankles.
She stretched her hands to touch his hair, calling his name.
“What is it, my love?” he asked breathlessly.
“You should undress too before you catch a cold. And we must change into something more proper; Mrs. Nott will soon bring the dinner.”
Darcy stopped, still caressing her feet. He looked up at her; she was flustered, her eyes and lips smiling shyly at him.
“You are right of course, dearest.” He rose hastily and moved to a corner, removing his clothes quickly.
She glanced at him, wondering how it would feel if she had done for him as he did for her.
It was not the right time yet—but it would come soon.
She would learn to have no restraint with him.
She just needed to adjust to the unexpected delight she had started to discover about her married life.
Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed Darcy opening their luggage.
Not looking at each other, they both chose night clothes and robes and managed to achieve a proper appearance.
Then, Elizabeth resumed her place by the fire.
Darcy bent over, claimed her lips for a moment, and then sat on the rug again.
“Would you not be more comfortable in a chair?” she teased him.
“Not at all, Mrs. Darcy. I am perfectly fine at your feet—where I have been since the day you refused to dance with me at Sir William’s party.”
“If only I had known sooner, Mr. Darcy. But in this, we must share the blame. And perhaps we should share the rug too.”
She did just that, sitting next to him. He received her with pleasure, leaning his back against the chair. Then he pulled her to him, both enjoying the silent, tender embrace. Outside, the voices were louder, and so was the rain. He took her hands to his lips, kissing and tantalising each finger.
“Elizabeth, please forgive me, my dear.”
She turned in his arms, in utter surprise. “What on earth for, Fitzwilliam?”
“I have selfishly and unwisely placed you in a disagreeable situation on the day of our wedding,” he said in earnest. “I thought of nothing but my desire to be alone with you. If we had left earlier with the Fitzwilliams, we would have been safely in London by now.”
“Surely you are joking! You cannot make the bad weather your fault! I would say it was rather a fortunate happenstance since our delay might have been the salvation of Mrs. Johnson and her children.”
“True, if you put it that way. For this, I am content and grateful.”
“As am I. And the desire to be alone was mine as much as yours. I would never call ‘disagreeable’ a situation where I am resting by a fire with you. What could be lovelier than this?” she teased him, caressing his face. He stopped her hand and placed a tender kiss on her palm.
“I only want you to be safe and comfortable. And there is no better place than our home.”
“My home is in your arms, my dear husband.”
“Of course if we are to speak of comfort, I wonder why we remain on the rug. I could hold you in my arms on the bed too,” he joked, placing a kiss on top of her head. She did not reply but cuddled to his chest and remained in silence for a while.
“You seem rather thoughtful. May I ask what is troubling you, Elizabeth?”
“I was thinking of you—of how generous and kind you are and how seldom you allow people to see it. Today, I had proof that you not only help people you care for but anyone in need. Of all the people who passed by, you were the only one who stopped to see what was wrong. And you did not hesitate a moment to take a strange woman under your protection and provide her even further assistance. You are simply a good man—the best I have ever known.”
She gazed at him and pressed her lips briefly to his. “I hope to be worthy of you, Mr. Darcy.”
“My love, it is you who see in me the best of men and make me want to be such.”
“Again, you put the merit where it is not deserved. Believe me; I only speak the truth.”
“I fear I do not deserve your praise, Elizabeth. I simply offer help where I see the need. It is what I was taught by my excellent father. But this does not compensate for the other flaws in my character. I know I am not a pleasant man, I do not possess easy manners, and I only care for a few people’s company.
When we were in Meryton…if Mrs. Philips or Lady Lucas were in some kind of trouble, I would have readily helped them.
But you could never induce me to spend an evening in easy conversation with any of them. I am sorry, but that is who I am.”
Elizabeth laughed and kissed his face several times. Under the delightful assault of her soft lips, Darcy continued his confession.
“I am a selfish man; you already know that. Even tonight—I did bring Mrs. Johnson and the children to the inn, and I paid for their comfort. But you are the one who thought of their true needs and asked for milk and hot soup. Then you told Stevens to give the baskets of food to my men. You are the one who is kind and generous. My only concern was to see everyone settled so I could be alone with you.”
“Come, sir, let us not argue over which of us is better,” Elizabeth whispered through her kisses. “Let us agree that neither of us is perfect, but we are perfect for each other.”
They soon became so caught up in the delight of shared kisses and caresses that they failed to hear a soft knock. When they finally did, both startled and hurried to arrange their appearance before Darcy opened the door. Mrs. Nott was holding a tray of food and drinks.
“Thank you, this looks lovely. We shall not need anything else until morning,” Darcy said. He then closed and locked the door, turning to his wife, who was laughing at his prompt dismissal of the efficient Mrs. Nott.
“Hopefully, this will be the last disturbance tonight. Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
He took her hand and brought her to the table by the window. Elizabeth sat and pulled the curtains just enough to look outside. She saw only darkness and the rain blowing against the windows.
They chose some food, taking small bites between intense gazes. They were both slightly disconcerted, one trying to guess what to expect from that night, the other struggling to put aside expectations.
“Would you like a little wine?” he asked. “It will help you sleep.”
“Just a little,” she answered. She took a sip then licked her lips. That little gesture caused Darcy’s blood to boil, and he emptied his glass to satiate a thirst of another kind.
“I hope it will stop soon—the rain,” she whispered.
“As do I…before I lose my sanity.”
“I can see you are upset. Is it so bad?” she inquired shyly. “I mean…even if it is not our home, I enjoy being here with you. I understand that it is different from what you are accustomed to…”
Only then did Darcy understand her meaning, and he hurried to her. “My beloved, I enjoy being alone with you more than you can imagine! Under different circumstances, I would not worry were the storm to last a week! As long as I am with you, nothing else matters. It is just that…”
“Yes?”
“Come,” he said, taking her next to the stove. He sat in the armchair and put her on his lap. She smiled, and her arms circled his neck. Their faces were so close that their lips touched when they spoke.
“My beautiful wife, the only reason for my distress is that my body and my mind are maddening moment by moment, waiting to love you as I want. I cannot wait to finally be united as we should… and I do not want to do that until we arrive home. I cannot allow our wedding night to take place in an inn. If not, we could have stayed at Netherfield and been much more comfortable.”
“Oh…” she whispered, blushing. “I understand…” She averted her eyes a moment, her cheeks burning.
“I am afraid you do not.” He laughed and gently bit her lips. “This is why I am reluctant to go to bed with you although there is nothing I want more. I do not think I shall be able to restrain myself.”