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For a moment, Lizzy could not think. It had happened so quickly. Then, the brush of his lips, light but firm, set her body aflame. This was what it felt like to be kissed. To have a man so near that she was enveloped in his scent, his heat. It was all Lizzy could do to keep her knees from buckling at the intensity of it.
He cupped her face, and his mouth grew more insistent. She did not know what to do with her hands, so she simply surrendered to him. Opened to him. Allowed his tongue to part her lips and plunder her.
He tasted of lemonade and something deliciously male. She pressed her palms to the silk of his waistcoat. His chest was hard and masculine beneath her hands.
Some part of her brain told her she should not allow this intimacy, but sensation crowded out the thought. The smell of his bay rum soap exploded through her senses. His teeth nipped at the corner of her mouth, and sparks of pleasure blinded her.
One of his hands grasped the small of her back, dragging her closer. Her gloved fingers explored the superfine wool that covered the broad planes of his back. A soft, involuntary moan escaped her throat. She wanted to discover more of him, but she did not dare.
His kisses slowed, and she whimpered. The next moment, he pulled away and gazed at her with heavy-lidded eyes. He did not speak nor step away. He just watched her as she continued to stand within the range of his body heat.
Bereft and panting, she gazed back at him. Before her conscious mind awoke to her intention, she gripped his nape and hauled him back to her.
This time, he held nothing back. His tongue explored every crevice of her mouth. He drew her hard against him, chest pressing against her bosom. Her hands mauled him, roaming over the taut muscles of his back.
Her breath came in gasps now, as if she could not get enough air. Did she need air, when she had Darcy? Would his kisses not be enough to sustain her?
A groan caught in her throat. She did not have Darcy. This was not a wedding vow. It was nothing but desire.
What if she had been mistaken? What if he wanted her not as a wife, but as a mistress? By allowing his kisses, was she not placing her virtue in doubt?
She forced herself to step away. She hugged herself, now chilled without his warmth to protect her from the night air. “I am sorry,” she said, her voice strangled.
“Miss Bennet, I—”
“You need not say it. I expect nothing of you. Please understand, I am not the sort of woman who—”
“No, of course not. I am not the sort of man who—”
“I have never done anything like that before. I do not know what came over me.”
But of course, she knew exactly what had come over her. Desire. Passion. Lust. In the few minutes of that kiss, she had lost her innocence.
She was still a virgin, of course. She had not been utterly compromised. But now she understood how a woman could risk her reputation, her future for a man’s touch. How wholly she could be swept away. How she could do things that five minutes earlier would have seemed impossible.
Her hands felt branded by the sensation of his body beneath them. She had never wanted anything so much. His eyes were still on her, still filled with longing. Was more there? Dared she hope for love?
Tears welled in her eyes, and he clutched her in his arms. “Dearest Lizzy, you must not cry. I have you, my love. I shall never let you go.”
They were foolish words, born of passion. But his lips were soon on her ear, whispering between tantalizing kisses, “I love you. I shall always love you.”
Fool that she was, she allowed herself to believe him.
***
DARCY DID NOT KNOW what madness had seized him when he first kissed her, but now he was lost in it. She tasted like heaven and felt like sin. Finally his Lizzy was in his arms, precisely where she belonged.
She was everything he had dreamed of in a wife. Beautiful, intelligent, witty, and passionate. The way her body had yielded to his kiss—the way she gripped him even now, as she rested pliant in his arms—this woman would be an eager bedmate. Not one who gave herself to him only for the purpose of bearing children.
He had no need of a dowry from her. Pemberley provided an ample living, and he had healthy investments besides. He could provide for her and a dozen children, if it came to that.
He loved her. He had been born to love her. This was destiny. And at last, she would be his.
A noise caught his attention. He pulled back and put a finger to her lips. Looking towards the terrace, he found it now empty but for two men emerging from the house.
Darcy drew Lizzy deeper into the shadows. It had been foolish to lead her into the darkest recesses of the garden like this. If they were seen, her reputation would be ruined—a stain even marriage would not entirely erase.
He must herd the gentlemen back into the ballroom so she could come out of hiding. He hated to leave her alone, but it could not be helped. He said in her ear, “I shall take care of them. Once we’re inside, wait a few minutes, then come back in.”
She nodded her understanding.
He looked her over. “You have only your wrapper. Will you be warm enough?”
“I shall not freeze to death,” she said in low tones, her voice teasing.
He wanted to kiss her but did not dare. He squeezed her hand and walked reluctantly towards the house.
***
LIZZY HUGGED HERSELF again, rubbing her hands along her arms in a futile attempt to keep warm. She watched, still and silent, as Darcy greeted the two men. Through the darkness, she could see the red tips of their cheroots.
How in Heaven’s name had she allowed this to happen? She should have been careful to remain within the light of the lanterns. She should not have stayed out with Darcy for more than the few minutes it took to cool down. If the two men—she knew not who they were—caught sight of her, they would know exactly what she and Darcy had been doing.
He would have to marry her. And knowing Darcy, he would.
But she did not want him to act out of a sense of honour. She wanted him to love her, not to feel trapped.
Darcy was everything to her. But if he did not feel the same, what torture would it be to live in his home, to lie in his bed, knowing he regretted it? Regretted her? She would not subject herself to that humiliation every day for the rest of her life.
She shivered. She was truly cold now. Nothing less than the threat of ruin could have kept her in that spot much longer. After what seemed like an hour, but was probably five minutes, the men finally went inside.
She would have to wait a bit before entering, at least if she used the door leading back to the ballroom. Was there another option? She followed the path in a different direction and came upon a side door, barely visible in the darkness.
Slowly, silently, she turned the knob. Then, she pushed the door open a crack. In the dim light beyond was an empty corridor. She slipped inside. Soundlessly, she faced the door and pressed it closed.
Letting out a sigh of relief, she turned. Her heart lurched. At the end of the hall stood a young woman, a maid, peering at her. “May I help you, ma’am?” she asked in a broad accent.
Lizzy’s mind went blank a moment. “Forgive me. I stepped outside to get some air...” Her mind worked. She was not an accomplished liar, but her reputation was at stake. “I thought I might look for the necessary, but I got turned around.”
“Good heavens, you’re shivering! Let’s go to the cloak room so you can stand by the fire. There’s a water closet there, too.”
“That is most kind of you.”
Ten minutes later, warm and comfortable, Lizzy re-entered the ballroom. She caught Darcy’s eye to make sure he saw her. She did not wish him to worry for her safety. He gazed at her tenderly and gave her a quick smile before turning away again, looking nonchalant.
Her heart rose in her chest. His outward coolness did not trouble her. It was as if the two of them shared a secret—which of course they did—and she liked that.
Her sense of normalcy restored, some of Lizzy’s earlier fears receded. Above all else, Darcy was a man of honour. He would not have kissed her recklessly, without a thought of consequences. His passion had not been wild and unruly, but measured and gentle. She had no doubt he would be an exuberant bed partner—good heavens, what a thought! On this night, however, he had shown restraint.
His kisses had been intentional. They had been designed to comfort and reassure. What if the nephew of an earl did not care about your lack of fortune, but loved you for you? That held the sound of a promise. And Lizzy allowed herself to believe as she never had before.
***
DARCY LET OUT A LONG sigh of relief even while keeping his expression safely masked. The past quarter hour had been one of the longest of his life. Lizzy must have been freezing in that thin ball gown, with nothing but a cotton shawl to protect her.
But her reputation had been at stake, and he had not dared expose her. He had hurried Wayne and Greymore into the house as quickly as he could.
Making his way towards Lizzy, he did not approach close enough to speak. But he could see that she did not shiver, and her skin was a healthy pink. She must have found a way to warm herself before coming back to the ballroom.
Drat him for getting carried away like that! He had placed her in danger, and that was unforgivable. Tomorrow, he would ask for her hand and spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
An unbidden smile crossed his face at the thought of it. He schooled it instantly. In the corner of his eye, Lizzy was looking in his direction. He gave her a quick glance and a nod, but did not let his eyes linger. He did not wish her to think he was leering at her.
What a bungled mess this had become! The memory of her in his arms...that taste had not been nearly enough. Elizabeth Bennet was not the cold jewel that the young ladies of the ton strove to be. She was warm with an animal passion. He wanted her beneath him with her limbs wrapped around him, his body encompassed by her heat.
He could not speak to her now without raising suspicion. He had already danced with her once, with the supper waltz promised later in the evening. He did not wish to draw attention, in case anyone had noticed them leaving the ballroom together. If they remained discreet the rest of the evening, the gossips might forget that lapse.
No, tonight called for nonchalance, but that would soon change. His mind worked through the next steps. Tomorrow, propose. The next day, ride to Longbourn for her father’s permission. Spend the night at Netherfield and ride back to London the next day.
How long would it take to get a license? They would marry in Meryton, as Lizzy wished, surrounded by her friends. Those from London who wanted to travel there could do so. Netherfield would be large enough to house the Fitzwilliams for a night or two.
He ought to stop this train of thought. She had not yet accepted an offer from him. But she had accepted his kisses. That was the same thing for a young woman of her background. She would not have kissed him with such abandon if she had not been expecting a proposal.
And why should she not? He had been doing his best to convey his intentions for two weeks now. A woman of her intelligence could not be blind to his advances.
Perhaps they should all remove to Hertfordshire at once. Nothing was keeping the Bennet ladies in London now. As Lizzy had said, Lady Purcell would soon want her house back.
Lizzy’s wedding clothes were a consideration, of course. But then, if Mrs. Bennet were involved, he would be getting the bill for those anyway. Lizzy might as well wait to order them until after they were married.
He, Bingley, and Georgiana could stay at Netherfield until the wedding. The Fitzwilliams could come for the ceremony itself. He would of course invite his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. But she was unlikely to come, given the weakened state of her daughter Anne’s health.
Yes, it could be accomplished in a week, he was sure. Soon, very soon, and in every sense of the word, Lizzy would be his.
He would let nothing stand in his way.