Chapter 2.17 #4
“I am tired but pleased—and relieved. As Lady Matlock said, I am glad it turned out well.”
“Lady Matlock said you were invited to apply for a voucher. That is quite an honour from what my aunt said.”
“Yes, I imagine…I am quite grateful for it. Now I am thinking…”
“Yes?”
“I look forward to going to Pemberley—only the two of us.”
He pulled her closer to his chest and kissed her temple. “So am I, my love.”
The Darcy house—like all the others along the street—was as silent as a quiet, dark giant, yet Elizabeth felt it to be the warmest and brightest place she knew. It was their home—the shelter of their love away from everyone and everything, away from rules and judgments and demands.
“I am so content finally to be home. I will never be comfortable in such large gatherings; besides, I need no one else but you,” Darcy said, showing her once again that they think alike.
“So am I, my love,” she repeated his words from a little earlier.
They entered then Darcy dismissed the footman. They were not expecting to receive any visitors for the next several hours. From below the stairs, a few voices could be heard; part of the household was already awake and attending to their duties.
Inside their suite, Molly and Miles were waiting, but Darcy told them they were not needed. Dawn was claiming its right over the night, shyly lighting the room through the half-parted curtains.
Once alone, they removed their coats and gloves; then Elizabeth glided her hands around her husband’s waist.
“Will you dance with me now, Mr Darcy?”
“I have been counting the minutes until I could do so, Mrs Darcy.”
His arms encircled her back and their bodies brushed against each other while their eyes were locked and their faces glowed in anticipation.
“And what dance will you choose, sir?”
“It does not matter. Holding you as I do now is more gratifying than any dance.”
He took a step to the right, then another to the left, without allowing a single inch of distance between them. Their eyes never left each other.
“This is a wonderful dance, Mr Darcy—lovelier than any other that might require us to separate.”
“Perhaps we could try the waltz?” He smiled, and his hands stroked her arms, her nape, then lowered down her spine and stopped on her hips.
“The waltz?” She licked her lips, suddenly dry from the intensity of his stare.
“You surely have heard of it. Do you want me to teach you?”
“I did hear; I also read about it in some ladies’ magazines. It appears to be rather scandalous. May I ask where you learnt it? It is well known that you are not fond of dancing—not even of the traditional, proper dances.”
“Robert has friends who learnt it from some French ladies. It has been popular in other countries for some time now. I attended several parties with them last year, and I even danced a few times, but I found it rather daunting. And I enjoyed it just as little as I enjoy other kinds of dances. But now, it suddenly has grown much more appealing to me.”
“It is a pity we do not have music.”
“I am confident we will manage without it if you only follow my lead.”
His steps changed to the rhythm of the waltz, and she tried to mirror his—first tentatively, even a little clumsily—but in a few minutes, their movements became consonant while their lips joined in a kiss.
“I suspect this is not the way the waltz is usually danced,” Elizabeth murmured. “Surely, you did not hold another lady so close in your arms on a dance floor—not even at a private party.”
He stole another brief kiss. “I have never held anyone else so close in my arms, my love—not on a dance floor or anywhere else. And no, this is not how the waltz is danced, but the steps are the correct ones. I am pleased to see how proficient you have become in such a short while.”
“I am a very quick study of anything you teach me, my dear sir.”
“So you are, my beloved wife.”
Their teasing became tender whispers, the dancing steps slowed, the touches turned into caresses, and kisses silenced any whispers.
Gently, his fingers removed her hairpins and the small flowers, allowing her locks to fall freely down her back.
A deep kiss intoxicated her, and, as in a dream, she felt her dress unfastened and slowly pushed down from her shoulders.
Her skin first shivered from the coldness then suddenly burned under his warm hands.
Her fingers stroked his shoulders and chest then loosened his neckcloth.
Their clothing fell piece by piece to the floor.
Then the dance stopped, and he lifted her in his arms and carefully placed her on the bed.
Light kisses, tender strokes, and passionate whispers aroused the passion inside her, and his groans betrayed his eager desire.
Then Elizabeth called his name, and he stopped, looking at her in wonder. She entwined her hands around his neck, then her legs wrapped around him.
“William, enough with restraints and worries and fears. I will have none of it. I want you to love me with all your heart and all your body. I want to feel you beside me…upon me…inside me…this very night and not a moment later.”
“Elizabeth…my love…”
“Please look at me…I am fine—all will be well. I need nothing but your love, so please love me…please.”
Her body slowly moved beneath his, against him, while her lips joined his to stop his whispers of weak opposition.
He struggled to stay in control for a while, then her pleas, her caresses, her warmth, her softness, and his own thirst and unleashed desire became impossible to oppose.
So he surrendered, and they allowed themselves to start and end another dance together —in perfect harmony, with only the music of their hearts—which reached its completion at the same time as the daylight that flooded the room.