“So, then,” said Elizabeth, tipping up her chin, “what should I wear?”
“I don’t know,” I said, coming across the room to look through her wardrobe. “Did I buy you anything scandalous?”
She pressed into me. “You certainly did not. You would never parade your wife around wearing something scandalous, after all. You are Mr. Darcy, the man who always does only what is expected.”
I laughed. “What about this? I like you in blue.”
“Do you?” She was smiling at me.
I kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around my neck.
I slid one hand against her back, the other to the curve of her hip. I deepened the kiss.
She moaned against my mouth.
“Maybe,” I said, pulling away, a little breathless, “you need to try it on.”
“Do I?” she said. “Well, if I were going to do that, I would have to take what I’m wearing off, I suppose.”
“Oh, you would,” I said. “You quite would.”
“You like looking at me when I’m wearing less clothes, of course.”
“Anyone would,” I said, sliding my hand over her hip to her waist and then back down to her upper thigh. “You’re exquisite under all this.”
She captured my lips with her own, pressing her body against me, writhing against me.
I started working on the buttons of her dress.
After, we lay on her bed, sweat cooling on our bare skin. She fit perfectly against me, her head on my shoulder, her body curving around mine like it belonged there. I clutched her against me, nose in her hair, perfectly happy in that moment.
Nothing could be wrong with the world, not if Elizabeth was in my arms and neither of us were dressed.
“I wonder if we should take your aunt’s advice,” she said, cheek on my chest.
“Do you want to?” I said.
“Well…” She shrugged against me. “On principle, I suppose I wish to do the opposite of everything that your aunt tells us to do, but I have to admit that may not be very intelligent, in the end. There may be longterm consequences.”
I scoffed. “Oh, what do you think they would be?”
“Well, I could offend positively everyone and we could never be invited to another ball again, and then we could be roundly shunned by absolutely everyone.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “But I don’t like balls anyway.”
She laughed, squirming against me. “Tell the truth, Fitzwilliam, are you encouraging me to sabotage my first London social event so that we shall never have to go to another one?”
“Of course not,” I said, tightening my grasp of her. “But you don’t wish to play their game, do you?”
“I do wish it,” she moaned. “I simply do not seem to be capable of it.”
“Well, you will do as best you can, then,” I said. “If you wish to stay silent and you wish to wear the dress she thinks you should wear, you will. And if you cannot manage it, you cannot. And no matter what, you will have me with you, and I shall defend you to the ends of the earth.”
She looked up at me, searching my gaze, biting her bottom lip in that way of hers, the way that stirred me. If I had not already been sated, I should have wanted her then, badly wanted her.
“How can this be?” I whispered. “How can you be my wife? How could I have ever been so fortunate?”
