Darcy had asked her to come alone. But was he alone?
∞∞∞
The maid, at Mr Bennet’s request led them towards the library, but Elizabeth paused behind their back, then turned instead and entered the parlour.
He was there, standing before the fire. They found themselves face to face—alone for the first time since that evening at the Bingleys’.
He was thinner than she remembered, but there was a calm in his expression that almost provoked her when set against the turmoil of her own feelings.
“Thank you for coming, Miss Bennet,” he said.
She glanced about the room, searching for some sign that his wife might also be at Netherfield, ready to appear at any moment.
“I am alone,” he said, reading her unspoken thought. “Anne has left me.”
“I do not understand,” she murmured, her face burning, her heart beating wildly. “How can that be?”
“Later,” he said, almost pleading. “There are other matters we must settle first.”
Afterwards, neither could say how they came into each other’s arms—only that the embrace was sudden and irresistible,as though it had been waiting for them, engulfing their bodies like an unstoppable tide.
For a time, there was nothing but that closeness.It hurts…my God, it hurts, her thoughts whispered, so tightly did he hold her. It was not pain alone, but longing, desire, and all that had been suppressed between them. He held her with a force he could scarcely govern, as though the past weeks had at last broken through restraint. Even so, it was not enough; no nearness seemed sufficient to calm his wishes, desire, yearning. It was the passion and lust he had buried deep in his soul to prevent the ache when he thought of their past. He caressed her with a frenzy he could not stem.
Gradually, he felt her hands move—at first uncertain, then more assured—against his shoulders and his neck. She struggled to remove her gloves, hindered by the closeness he would not relinquish. They fell unnoticed to the floor as her bare hands came to rest against his skin.
Then he lost all composure. He drew her closer still, and the soft sound she gave brought him suddenly to himself. He lifted a hand to her face, and at last their eyes met fully. His fingers traced her features, lingering with care, before brushing lightly over her lips.
She had dreamed about their kiss for many sleepless nights. Instead of kissing her, though, Darcy took a step back, looking at her from head to toe. Then with slow gestures, he removed her pelisse, and again his eyes blurred at the sight of her long neck and her soft, white skin unveiled to his avid eyes.
He kissed her neck and mumbled words in her ear she could not understand though she still felt their meaning. He was madly in love. Slowly, looking into her eyes until the last second, he moved his lips to hers, and the long-desired kiss was as nothing she had ever expected. He let her feel and become accustomed to the wild sensation of closeness that their mouthstogether created. Slowly, he tasted each of her lips, making her tremble, and then he devoured her in an intimacy she never dared imagine. Her first instinct was to escape, frightened by her own feelings, but he gently caressed her face and said, “Let me kiss you, my love.” And she closed her eyes and let herself fall entirely under his power.
At length, they sat on a sofa, tightly embraced. Elizabeth’s lips burned from his kisses; they ached, but she smiled when he touched them with his fingers.
“I am sorry,” he said softly. “I have quite lost my senses.”
He looked at her again. Under ordinary circumstances, such intimacy would have been impossible so soon—but nothing between them had ever followed the ordinary course.
“I need to know what has happened,” she said at last.
“Tell me first that you love me,” he replied, his expression intent.
“You—first.”
“You know that I love you. You have known it since Hunsford—while I only understood yours at Bingley’s dinner.”
“I didn’t tell you then that I loved you.” Elizabeth jokingly tried to save her reputation in the face of his teasing smile.
“You did not need to. It was plain enough.”
She struck his chest lightly, but he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. A faint shiver passed through her. His lips followed the line of her arm, lingering with care on her arms, shoulders, and neck, making her cry each time his burning lips found her soft skin.
“I love you,” she said at last. Then, breathless, “Stop—stop.”
She was crying, but her voice was only an encouragement to continue.
“I never imagined…” she said, leaning back, her eyes closed.
“This?” he asked gently.
