Page 108 of Bitterness of Spirit

“There was not much to say, nor was it the right time and place. I invited him to have breakfast with us tomorrow and to move his belongings to Pemberley. There is a room prepared for him.”

She stared at him in disbelief.

“I am still upset…and there are still many things to be settled. I cannot accept the threat to my family, just as I cannot forget and forgive my aunt and uncle. But that has nothing to do with my invitation. Georgiana is eager to meet him, and my father would have loved to see him back home. He even left some letters for Wilson that he wrote in the last years of his life, but he never knew where to send them.”

She gently took his hand and leaned her face into his palm. He tenderly lifted her chin, and it was his turn to taste her red, alluring lips, fighting the desire to devour them, to satiate his long-abiding thirst. He closed his arms gently around her, his tenderness defeating his passion for the moment; then he withdrew slowly, feeling his lack of control would soon betray him.

“Do you like Pemberley?”

“How could I not like it? I would be charmed by Pemberley even if I had not been charmed a long time ago by its master.”

He smiled as he brushed his thumbs over her teasing lips. “I went to London so I could be the first to show you Pemberley. I hoped you would love it enough to agree to stay, regardless of your feelings for me.”

“Surely you must have known that I came here only for you. You could not have misjudged my feelings so badly. But you must not worry; I saw little of the house and grounds as I thought only of you. You may show it to me tomorrow…and many other days and nights to follow,” she replied, nervous at her own daring while she met his eyes for an instant.

They stopped in front of her door, and she reluctantly released his arm. “This is my room,” she whispered, careful not to be heard.

He leaned in so his lips touched her ear as he replied, “I know. I chose it for you.”

“And the roses?”

“And the roses. Starting tomorrow, you may choose any chamber you desire.”

She turned her head so her lips brushed over his when she whispered back. “I shall not change it, sir—at least for now. It seems you know my preferences well enough to make the best-suited choices for me, Mr. Darcy.”

Her eyes sparkled as she saw the laughter in his gaze. He placed a lingering kiss on both her palms.

“Not yet—but I am sure I shall improve with practice. I still fear I am dreaming, so I shall await tomorrow to discuss your preferences further, Miss Bennet. For now, I must convince myself that everything is real.”

She rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his again. “Perhaps this will help both of us as my fears are just as strong as yours. Good night, Mr. Darcy,” she said and quickly entered her chamber.

Chapter 26

Darcy remained outside the door for several long minutes then finally retired to his apartment, dizzy with happiness.

Was it true? Did she really love him? Did she kiss him? He had spent so many tormenting nights. Had everything suddenly happened as he hoped—better than he hoped?

He pushed the door and entered his apartment. His valet was expecting him with hot water and his luggage unpacked. Darcy washed then dismissed the servant.

She was only a few doors away, and that thought became sweet torture. There were still many long hours until morning, and he stared at his pocket watch. She must be asleep already; surely, she was tired.

He scolded his folly that made them both go through so much torment in the last two months. He was such a complete simpleton with his foolish doubts and fears that replaced his earlier—and more foolish—arrogance and self-confidence. He must learn; she could teach him.

Darcy tried to sleep but failed repeatedly. His heart was too light, and his mind too alert to be defeated by weariness.

He tossed in his bed for a time; then suddenly a thought crossed his mind. He did not actually propose to her, and she did not truly accept him. How could he omit the most important part?

He mused on this for a short while, then hurried downstairs again, and returned minutes later with Elizabeth’s shoes. He first hesitated then gently knocked on her door and waited without knowing she had already seen him from her balcony and was eagerly waiting for him. There was still much to be said and heard that night.

She opened the door, and he was there, looking at her. The only light came from outside and from the single candle that burned on a small table.

Both were in nightclothes, now dry and clean. She stepped back, and he entered then closed the door behind him.

Elizabeth glanced at her shoes and smiled.

“I needed a reason to come to you in the middle of the night,” he admitted. “And I thought it would be better not to let the servants find these in the morning.”

“Excellent reasoning, Mr. Darcy. Except that you did not need a reason to come to me,” she teased him with a trembling voice. She was not as calm as she pretended.