Page 109 of Bitterness of Spirit

He dropped the shoes and took another step forward. Their silhouettes were lit from behind by the moonlight; and their closeness, the time of night, and the image of the beloved standing inches away made them both dizzy. It was dreamlike and highly improper.

“I know you said we would speak more tomorrow. But there is something that must be said this instant. It cannot wait.”

“What would that be?” she whispered, shivers running over her skin.

“A question…” He was now close enough to touch her. He took her hands and brought them to his lips.

“A question? Have you a question to which you do not yet know the answer?”

“I might know the answer, but I need to hear it nevertheless.”

“Then, pray ask it,” she encouraged him, her lips parting under his gaze.

“Miss Bennet, would you allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you? And would you be so generous as to forgive and forget my terrible manners, my arrogant behaviour, and my foolish assumptions that have brought us two more months of torment? Would you allow your heart to complete mine and accept my hand in marriage, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth?”

She laughed while tears glittered in her eyes. “That was not one but three very long questions. I am usually the one who speaks too much, but this time would it be enough for me to answer a simple yes to all of them?”

His face brightened with heartfelt delight. “A simple ‘yes’ is perfect.”

She freed one of her hands and gently caressed his face. “But perhaps not enough. It is my turn to tell you how ardently I love and admire you, my dearest Mr. Darcy,” she whispered.

“Please do,” he said huskily. “As often as you wish. I have waited for this so long and suffered so when I lost all hope that I still cannot believe it is happening.”

“We have said that so many times tonight that we shall soon become irksome and annoying.”

She laughed again, looking at him while her hands encircled his waist. Her body brushed against his, and he captured her in his arms.

He smiled with an expression that she witnessed for the first time. “Then perhaps we should cease speaking.”

She quivered although she was so hot she could barely breathe. “Perhaps,” she whispered her acceptance.

Their mutual gazes confessed the depth of their feelings and the power of restrained desires, so when their lips touched, so did their souls.

The kiss started sweet and gentle. She felt like she belonged in his arms, like her lips had been waiting for his, like her wishes and dreams had been too poor compared to the sensations that slowly arose inside her.

Her body then leaned into him so that only their nightclothes separated them. Slowly, the soft tenderness seemed too little, and passion overcame it. Urge and hunger needed to be satiated, desires to be fulfilled, ardour to be tempered.

Elizabeth felt herself being carried to the bed, and she finally opened her eyes. He was there, just as he had been earlier on the grass. Only now, his nearness was real, and she daringly put her arms around his neck, pulling him to her.

He obeyed and gently pressed his torso on hers as she abandoned herself to the fiery kisses and caresses that she slowly learned to enjoy and then to crave.

Eventually, Darcy stopped his tender assault and withdrew slightly. Their lips almost touched as he brushed several rebellious locks from her forehead and temple.

“I cannot believe this is happening,” he whispered again. “And yes, I know I am irksome and annoying, but I need to say it nevertheless.”

“I must say it too, and I am sure I shall repeat it in the morning.”

He placed sweet kisses upon her eyelashes. “I shall go now, my love. I have stayed too long; I should not have come here at all.”

“You should go, indeed, although you have stayed too little. I do not wish you to leave although I know you must.”

“There is nothing I wish more than never to leave your side. But I must. Tomorrow morning I shall speak to Mr. Gardiner, and we shall write to your parents—if you agree.”

“Of course I do…”

He rose, and they sat on the edge of the bed, holding hands.

“It is safer to speak this way,” he said, and she blushed. “We must think of a date for the wedding…and a place. Rather, you should think since I would agree with anything you want. As long as the date is near-at-hand. Do you prefer the wedding to take place here or in Meryton? ”