Page 176 of The Mistress of All & Torn

He frowned. “Go? We will if that is what you choose.”

“What else can we do now that I have made a complete fool of myself? I have been reckless and inconsiderate and shameless—”

“No, my love,” he interrupted her. “You have been passionate and loving. You have been just as I have dreamt countless times, and more. Please do not take away the rest of the night from us if this is all we have.”

“I do not want to leave. I have lost my heart and my mind to you.” She nodded her acceptance and wished to speak more, but he covered her lips in a kiss where the passion left little room for tenderness.

“You said we should stop,” she whispered with regret when she could breathe again.

“Not at all. What I meant is that I will show you all the love, all the passion, all the pleasure a man can share with a woman he loves more than himself.”

“Show me. I trust you.” She managed a few more words until all her thoughts were gone.

His caresses and kisses covered her with a thirst, a hunger that seemed to have no end. He conquered her most hidden places, and she surrendered to him without restraint. Again and again he returned to kiss her lips, and their eyes met at times, but his mouth was greedy and starved for every spot on her body. He built and soothed the desire inside her until she felt she could bear it no longer, but then he proved her wrong.

She tried to mirror his moves, to return some of the pleasure he gave her, to show him her own passion, but she was not strong enough to do anything but submit herself to him, while the moon and the stars watched over them.

They had long lost track of time when they eventually rested in each other’s arms, exhausted and fulfilled. He was holding her tight, her back against his torso, his arms and legs around her while her hand was entwined with his. They both admired the sea, reluctant for the sun to rise. Their one night was almost over.

“You said you could not take me as yours tonight, but I feel I am. No one could belong to another more than we belong to each other.”

“I feel the same, my beloved. If someday Fate allows, one day you may become my wife…”

She turned in haste and covered his lips with trembling fingers. “At this moment I feel so happy that I could fly, and so sad that I wish to weep until I have no more tears to shed. I beg you, do not speak of anything beyond this night.”

He kissed her fingers briefly. “Very well. Forgive me. I promised you so many times, and I failed.”

For a while there was nothing but the whisper of the waves, and then, “What if someone is looking for you? It is almost dawn,” he whispered to her, inhaling the scent of her.

“Yes. We should return,” she agreed, but neither of them moved.

Eventually, he was the one who rose and helped Elizabeth to stand.

Slowly, they started to put their wet, cold clothes on, without glancing at each other—not out of shame but because of the realisation that every move was a step closer to their separation.

They mounted Thunder again, but this time Elizabeth did not ride astride, she sat with her head resting on Darcy’s chest so she could listen to his heart until the Kendal property appeared.

They stopped where they had met earlier that evening, her abandoned shoes marking the spot, and he lowered her from the saddle. As they stood still, face to face, the sun broke the darkness over the sea. Their gazes deep, locked, blurred by a love that seemed destined to end as the sun rose, were filled with sorrow.

Desperately, he kissed her hands and embraced her one last time. There was so much more to be said, but nothing mattered, nothing could change their hopeless circumstances.

Their night had ended.

Chapter 20

The following weeks passed with painful slowness.

Elizabeth’s heart, ripped into pieces, bled after Darcy’s departure. She lost her passion for walking out and did not leave the property except to pay short calls to her family.

The days were often busy, and Elizabeth tried to keep up her usual spirits for her friends and family. But she never walked out and never went sea bathing again. Sometimes, she wandered to the edge of the water in front of the cottage. During the nights, she was alone with her dreams and memories of Darcy’s image, scent, and warmth close to her heart. The vivid recollections of his caresses, touches, and kisses tormented her; she felt him near her every moment and wondered how longing could be so painful?

The change in her mood was impossible to conceal and was readily observed by the others.

Lady Kendal and Philip often asked about her low spirits, but she always denied any peculiar preoccupation. She was tired of Brighton, but she could not imagine any other place could be better.

Before she departed, Anne de Bourgh visited Elizabeth again and confessed her decision to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam. The conversation brought Elizabeth to near tears, as it brought back her wonderful yet most tortured memories of when she had heard the news for the first time. But to her friend, she expressed her joy and best wishes, embracing Anne with sisterly regard. She truly hoped that this unexpected marriage would prove to be blissful and to the advantage of both.

Anne and Georgiana expressed their desire to meet Elizabeth again soon in town, but she did not know whether she could. Could she tempt herself to see Darcy so soon? Even the nearness of Darcy’s relatives in his absence was unbearable to her.