Chapter 1.17 #4
He shook his head in disbelief: Did she know how much power she had over him?
Did she know that her playfulness was more appealing to him than any seduction?
Probably not—she was only being herself.
And she was obviously pleased—even delighted with his gesture.
And was she honest? Had she started to feel happiness at his side?
Even a little would raise his hopes—and why did he doubt?
She would surely not deceive him nor conceal her true feelings.
And yes, her eyes sparkling with joy wore a trace of happiness.
How could he possibly have wasted the first days of his marriage? Such a fool he was!
∞∞∞
Elizabeth turned to her room pleased, cheerful, and flustered.
He searched the Town to find flowers for me.
Did I thank him properly? Does he understand my intention?
Does he realise that I meant more than the mere words?
Does he know how much I appreciated his effort?
Such beautiful flowers in the middle of winter!
And such an overwhelming note—only a few words that make my head spin.
Elizabeth recollected everything that had happened in the last day and night.
The more she thought of the amazing events, the more she felt the need to think of them again, to balance the meaning of each word and each gesture.
It was a turning point in her marriage, and she wished to be certain that she understood it correctly.
She heard a gentle knock and invited her husband to enter. He approached and glanced at the flowers then brushed his fingers over them.
“I am glad you like them.”
“How could I not? They are beautiful—and so is the note. I have never received flowers before—from a gentleman, I mean. They are such a wonderful surprise.”
“And I have never sent flowers to a lady before—outside my family.”
She looked at him in disbelief, doubting his words.
Yet, his slightly embarrassed expression was enough proof, and she did not inquire further.
Another long moment followed, both staring into each other’s eyes, tension building between them, neither daring to make a gesture yet hoping the other would.
Darcy fought a difficult battle between his desire to touch her, caress her, taste her half parted lips and the soft skin of her throat, which was moving with her every breath, and his fear and concern that any attempt at closeness, the smallest gesture of intimacy might appear as if he expected a reward for the flowers he offered her—and that was what he loathed more.
So he stood as steel, recognising her emotions, hoping he saw an invitation in her eyes—even a desire for more intimacy between them—and wishing for her to make the smallest gesture towards him. She did not, and neither did he.
“We should start preparing. I would like to arrive there by the second comedy. Robert specifically insisted we not be late,” he said, and she was obviously surprised.
“Oh… You are right, or course. I shall prepare myself carefully. I imagine we will be in the midst of gossip again.” She tried to sound teasing but did not completely succeed.
“I will stay by your side. Please do not worry about anything.”
“I do not…” She playfully stretched towards him then daringly placed a kiss on his cheek.
An hour later, Elizabeth glanced at her image in the mirror.
She was wearing one of the new gowns, very light green with discreet darker shades.
She looked at the boxes of jewels, wondering which would suit better.
Although she struggled to put the thought away, she wondered whether they would meet Lady Stafford again at the opera.
She noticed the entrance of her husband. She smiled, thinking that he was impatient.
“I am ready, but I cannot decide which set I should wear.”
He moved closer, his eyes travelling from her eyes down to her shoes, then up again.
“You look beautiful. Truly, you do not need any jewels, but since you must choose, I would suggest the citrine set. The stones will shine on your skin.”
She felt flustered, held his gaze for a moment, and then laughed nervously. “And here we are again: I am staring at them for half an hour and you only need a moment to decide.”
“Not really,” he replied humorously. “I could have said the same about any set. They would all look beautiful on you. Please allow me,” he said, and she had no time to reply before he moved to her back and slowly guided the necklace around her neck, locking it.
She felt her knees suddenly weakening, and she cast a quick look at their image in the mirror.
He was so close to her that she could feel his breath on her neck but also the warmth of his body.
His fingers ended the task rather quickly then brushed gently along the necklace and around her neck, slightly touching her skin.
He then handed her the box, and she put on her earrings with trembling fingers, Darcy not moving an inch from her.
Finally, he gently turned her to him, took her hand, and put the bracelet and then a kiss on her wrist. She gulped to remove the lump in her throat and said, “We should leave.”
Yet, neither of them moved for a long moment, holding gazes and tentative smiles until Stevens announced that the carriage was ready.