He gazed at her, almost solemn, silently pleading for another revision.
“A week,” she murmured.
“But I have put you down,” he whispered against her ear, sending shivers through her. Elizabeth trembled in his arms, waiting for him to kiss her. Instead, he drew away, releasing her.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
“How long shall I sleep alone?” he asked as his fingers traced maddening paths along her bare shoulders.
“Never!” she breathed.
And he kissed her, not as she wanted, but instead he tasted every inch of her neck. He stayed there for a frustratingly long time, murmuring words of love and passion. Then he kissed her ears, making her wriggle in his arms as her whole body was waiting for him, yet not entirely sure what would come next.
And when he finally arrived at her lips, she opened them for him as her whole body ached to do, so intense was the yearning to be his.
From somewhere in the distance, voices reached their ears, drawing closer, and Darcy stepped away from her, his gaze fixed on the door.
“Do not leave,” she whispered, for at last, nothing stood between them any longer.
“You do not wish to be mine on the sofa in the drawing-room?” he asked, his voice rough despite the teasing words.
“Someone has arrived,” Elizabeth murmured, sinking onto the sofa as her legs failed her. It felt as though she had climbed a mountain. Still, it was not only because of the desire that had shaken her body to the point of exhaustion, it was mainly because of the three long months of suffering, of relentless tension, of living in constant pain and fear. She felt so weary that she might have laid her head down and slept right there, but Darcy extended his hand, and she rose.
“Someone knocked at the door,” he said, watching her intently.
With a delighted smile, he smoothed her hair and adjusted her gown at the shoulders before finally calling out, “Come in.”
It was Mr and Mrs Talbot, along with Parker and Anna, who all entered without ceremony, breaking with protocol out of the sheer joy they felt in sharing this moment with their master and mistress.
On an impulse, Darcy embraced the two men who had remained by his side, minute after minute, forsaking sleep for countless nights to watch over him. Meanwhile, Elizabeth held the two ladies close, both of whom wept with happiness.
“The entire household asks permission to see you,” the housekeeper said.
Elizabeth smiled. “Then let them all come, Mrs Talbot.”
One by one, all those who served them passed before them. The men clasped Darcy’s hand while the ladies had tears in their eyes, which Elizabeth often wiped away when they spilt down their cheeks.
“Mrs Talbot,” Elizabeth said at last when they were alone again. “Please inform everyone that, in honour of this celebration of the Darcy household’s rebirth, they will receive their bonus at the height of summer.”
Darcy simply nodded in approval, his agreement broad and confident. He looked at his wife with pride—and with a trace of amusement, for only three months ago, she had timidly asked permission to buy herself a few gowns. In that brief time, Elizabeth had become the mistress of Pemberley, just as he had once wished, back when he had believed he was dying. London adored her, thanks to Lady Matlock and the duchess, who had spoken of her devotion with reverence. Their love story had become a tale recounted everywhere, admired by all. Even Lord Matlock, who had once been cold towards her, had begun to treat her almost warmly, while Darcy’s unmarried friends clamoured for an introduction to her sisters.
Many stories were told, but the most amusing was the one about Elizabeth’s courage—how she had saved him from a ruthless assassin.
Elizabeth was his wife in the eyes of the world, and now that he knew he would live, there was only one thing left to do: make her his woman.
But it was clear to both of them that it would be a while before they were left alone, for the joy of those around them was too great. Within the hour, the Matlocks arrived, followed by the Duke and Duchess of Nantwich. Viscount Brantford, the colonel’s brother, called too, with his wife and their two children. And an hour later, Jane entered, beaming, on the arm of her betrothed, Mr Bingley, followed by Kitty and the Gardiners, accompanied by all four of their children. The vast drawing-room, grand though it was, soon proved too small to contain them all.
Darcy had returned, and his family and friends felt compelled to express their jubilation and relief. And although he and Elizabeth longed to be alone, they included everyone in their exultation, realising that they needed every ounce of joy to help rebuild the peace that had been so gravely threatened.
At one point, the colonel approached Darcy and Elizabeth. With a discreet gesture, he guided them towards the windows, where he spoke in a lowered voice, “This morning,that manwas taken under heavy guard to the port and embarked for a long journey. His crime is deemed so grave that he may consider himself fortunate to be alive.”
Elizabeth looked at Darcy, and to her surprise, she found in his eyes an expression not of satisfaction but of sorrow.
“He was my childhood friend, and it pains me that I could not guide him towards a gentler fate.”
Then he laughed, for in his wife's gaze—far less forgiving than his own—he found only the quiet satisfaction of having rid their family of the threat that man had posed.
“The accident has softened you,” she remarked, her tone hovering between jest and earnestness.
