The heat that flared in his eyes made her breath catch. “I have several ideas on that subject. None suitable for the current discussion.”
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth gasped in feigned shock. “I believe marriage has corrupted your proper nature.”
“Entirely your fault,” he replied unapologetically. “You have made me forget every rule of propriety I ever learned.”
“Only in private, I hope,” she teased. “I should hate to tarnish your reputation as the most proper gentleman in England.”
“For you,” he said, “I would surrender that and every other title gladly.”
“Lizzy! Mr. Darcy!” Lydia interrupted their salacious speech. “You must come at once. Mr. Collins has arrived and is delivering what appears to be a sermon on the virtues of matrimonial felicity, complete with references to Lady Catherine’s rosebushes!”
“Duty calls,” Elizabeth sighed.
“Perhaps not,” Darcy murmured in her ear as Lydia was distracted by Colonel Fitzwilliam, brilliant in his regimentals. “Come,” he said, drawing her toward the library. “I have something for you.”
“Another gift?” Elizabeth asked, allowing herself to be led. “You have already given me quite enough for one day.”
“I have given you nothing compared to what you have given me,” he replied, his voice carrying a sincerity that made her heart skip. “But this is something I wanted you to have before we face the gauntlet of our combined families.”
In the relative privacy of the library, Darcy reached into his coat and withdrew a small wrapped package. “From Georgiana and me,” he said. “Though the sentiment is entirely mine.”
Elizabeth unwrapped the package to reveal a delicate goldbracelet, its surface engraved with words in Latin that she recognized from her limited education. “Semper fidelis,” she read aloud. “Always faithful.”
“A promise,” Darcy said, taking the bracelet and fastening it around her wrist with gentle hands. “That whatever the future may hold, my devotion to you will never waver.”
The simple words, spoken with such quiet conviction, undid her completely. Tears pricked her eyes as she gazed at this man who had become the center of her world.
“And here I thought you married me for my inheritance,” she said, attempting levity to cover the depth of her emotion.
“I married you for you,” Darcy replied, his hands framing her face with infinite tenderness. “The inheritance was merely a convenient excuse to justify my complete capitulation to your charms.”
Before she could respond, his lips found hers in a kiss that was everything their wedding kiss had not been—private, passionate, and entirely free of the restraint proper behavior demanded.
“We should return,” she whispered against his lips when the kiss finally ended. “Our families will be wondering?—”
“Let them wonder.” Darcy pressed another kiss to her temple. “I have waited twenty-eight years to have a wife to steal kisses from. I intend to make up for lost time.”
But before he could steal another kiss, the door burst open to admit Georgiana, whose face was flushed with excitement and something that might have been panic.
“Fitzwilliam! Elizabeth! You must come at once,” she gasped. “Aunt Catherine and Mrs. Bennet have decided to collaborate on the menu, and I fear they may actually come to blows over the proper way to serve eggs!”
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged a look before dissolving into laughter bubbling up from a well of shared happiness.
“Come then, husband,” Elizabeth said, taking his arm with mock formality. “Let us go prevent our families from starting theWar of the Wedding Breakfast.”
They returned to the breakfast room to find that Georgiana had not exaggerated. Lady Catherine and Mrs. Bennet stood toe-to-toe near the breakfast table, gesturing emphatically about what appeared to involve the proper arrangement of kedgeree.
“In any civilized household,” Lady Catherine was saying, “the eggs are always?—”
“Twenty years I have been serving eggs to this neighborhood,” Mrs. Bennet interrupted, “and not once has anyone complained about my methods.”
“Perhaps because they lacked proper examples for comparison,” Lady Catherine replied with devastating sweetness.
Elizabeth sighed and looked up at her husband, who was watching the proceedings with the fascinated horror of a man witnessing a natural disaster.
“Any suggestions?” she asked.
“Indeed, I do.” His arms swept around her waist while his mouth captured her lips in a thoroughly passionate and scandalous kiss.
