Mr. Darcy's Refuge (29 page)

Read Mr. Darcy's Refuge Online

Authors: Abigail Reynolds

 

Unable to bear how much he had been hurt through their misunderstandings, she turned her face into his shoulder. “I wish I had understood more.” Her voice was muffled by the superfine fabric of his coat.

 

His arms tightened convulsively around her. “You cannot know what joy you gave me when you marched into that sitting room like an avenging Amazon and announced you were going to marry me.”

 

Tears burnt in Elizabeth’s eyes as she remembered what had happened next, and before she knew it, a sob choked her. The surprises of the day and the overwhelming relief of finding herself in his protective embrace had shaken her more than she cared to admit. She tried to hold it back, telling herself that this was a foolish time to cry, now that she was finally with him, yet the salty tears insisted on pouring down her cheeks anyway. “I am sorry; I am not usually such a watering pot!” Her voice shook.

 

The pressure of his lips on her forehead soothed her even while it made her feel hot inside. “No, I am the one who should be sorry, my sweetest Elizabeth,” he murmured. “I never meant to hurt you or to cause you the least distress, yet I have done so, time and again. I do not know how you can ever forgive me.”

 

“I forgave you as soon as I realized your true intentions. My father was the one who truly hurt me, not you.” Her last words were barely audible.

 

Darcy’s arms tightened, then he released her just long enough to lead her to a rude stone bench carved into the grotto wall. It was wide enough that they could have sat with a proper distance between them, but instead he put his arm around her and drew her close beside him. “You are too kind to me. I was to blame for the situation arising in the first place. Were it not for me, your reputation would not have been in danger, there would have been no announcement, and your father would not have come to Kent and discovered us together.”

 

Even through her tears, she managed a shaky laugh. “So you caused the flood that stranded us together? I never knew you had such power over the weather!”

 

“I could not prevent the flood, but it was my choice to go charging over to the parsonage at night, knowing you were there alone. I knew your your reputation could be harmed if word got out of it, but I blithely assumed we would be engaged and therefore above reproach before anyone knew of it.”

 

“So, it would have been more respectful on your part to stay away, leaving me alone to face the village ruffians?”

 

Darcy’s arm around her tightened. “Do not even joke about that. It is hard enough to know how little I can do to protect you once you return to Longbourn.”

 

He was, she thought, all too prone to take responsibility for things far beyond his control. “I have managed to survive quite well thus far, sir! I am not as frail a creature as you might think.” She mopped her tears with a crumpled handkerchief from her pocket.

 

He spoke quietly in her ear. “Your uncle is just beyond the entrance to the grotto.”

 

Startled, Elizabeth looked up. Mr. Gardiner was looking directly at the two of them, without condemnation, but also standing his ground in a manner which showed his intention to watch them. He could not have said more clearly that he would allow Darcy to comfort her, so long as it went no further than that. Embarrassed, she hid her face in Darcy’s shoulder until she could control herself once more. “Oh, what must he think of me!”

 

“He understands how much you have suffered. He has been very good to me, which I do not deserve when I was the one who once condemned your low connections. It has been a lesson to me.”

 

His words provided a balm to her. She had worried often in these last months that Darcy might expect her to keep her relatives at a distance. That he might grow fond of them was an unexpected gift.

 

***

 

It was the happiest day Darcy had experienced in months. Coming as it did after such a prolonged period of gloom, it was all the more valued. While Elizabeth’s tears over her father pained him, it was outweighed by the satisfaction of being able to give her comfort. Later, as her usual high spirits began to emerge, he was once again absorbed into the joyous and light-hearted place the world could become when Elizabeth’s liveliness lit it. He had missed her teasing ways and the brilliance of her fine eyes, her quick intelligence so unlike the languor in fashion among ladies of the
ton.
To think that this would someday be his to enjoy constantly! He was determined to think only of that, not of the months of separation which they would suffer after her departure from Derbyshire. Sometimes he even succeeded in doing so, keeping the darkness at bay for a brief time.

 

The hardest part was fighting the constant temptation to take her into his arms. Those brief moments of holding her soft body against his had been intoxicating, and were it not for the presence of the Gardiners, he would have held her in his embrace for hours. Ah, why was he lying to himself? He would have done far more than hold her. Every sinuous movement of her lithe body, every unconsciously seductive gesture she made, every sparkling laugh tempted him into ever more dangerous desires to caress her soft skin, to claim her lips, to make her moan with pleasure from his touch. When one of her dark curls escaped from its binding, he could not look away from where it bounced against her neck, imagining how she would look with her hair loose and spread across his pillow. During their walk, he had been haunted by the vision of her legs, outlined through the thin muslin of her skirt when the sun was behind her. The urge to carry her off and make her forever his had been well-nigh unbearable, and the painful restraint he had showed in limiting himself to a chaste kiss was enough to qualify a man for sainthood. Fasting for weeks and wearing a hair shirt would be nothing in comparison. Still, he would happily tolerate that torment in exchange for the consuming delight of Elizabeth’s company.

 

Although he had wished the Gardiners far away dozens of times that day solely so that he could have Elizabeth to himself, he was also grateful for the leniency Mr. Gardiner had demonstrated in overlooking the moments when he could no longer restrain himself from even a chaste touch. Many chaperones would not have tolerated such breaches of propriety towards a young lady under their care, but Darcy suspected Mr. Gardiner of having sympathy toward his position, and Mrs. Gardiner seemed content to follow her husband’s lead.

 

The day ended far too soon, even though the Gardiners had extended their visit through an informal dinner and well into the evening. When Mr. Gardiner announced that it was time for them to return to the inn, no amount of preparation for the moment had prepared Darcy for the wrenching sense of emptiness that swallowed him at the prospect of being separated from Elizabeth. He would see her again in the morning, but the hours between now and then suddenly seemed like an endless stretch of bleakness.

 

His eyes automatically went to Elizabeth’s, so he did not notice Mr. Gardiner directing his wife out the door. That gentleman then came to him, blocking his view of Elizabeth, and clapped him on the shoulder. Leaning forward, he said quietly, “You have five minutes, lad, not a second more.”

 

As Darcy tried to make sense of this, Mr. Gardiner exited the sitting room and closed the door, leaving him alone with Elizabeth. Then he understood, astonished that even the sympathetic Mr. Gardiner would go so far, but prepared to be quite grateful for it. Later. Right now he had more important things to think about.

 

Elizabeth’s flushed cheeks told him she had some idea what was happening. Fortunately her blushes were enough to curb the insatiable voice in Darcy’s mind that was informing him quite explicitly of what might be accomplished in five minutes. Not wanting to waste a second of their precious time, he took Elizabeth’s hands in his. Turning them over, he brushed his lips against the palm of first one hand, then the other. Her shiver in response only made him want more. “Your uncle says we have five minutes.” His voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears.

 

Good Lord, how was he to take this slowly when she was looking at him in that unconsciously seductive manner? His body was already responding as he drew her into his arms, her familiar scent of lavender wafting over him. She trembled as her soft curves came into contact with his body, and for a moment Darcy was unsure whether it was fear or anticipation that she felt. Then her hands found their way around his neck, drawing him even closer, her hint of an arch smile tempting him to find his pleasures within.

 

Elizabeth’s heartbeat pounded in her ears as she vaguely wondered why her lips were already tingling when Darcy had not even touched them, but then he remedied that with a kiss so tender that it made her heart ache. Her body ached as well, but in a very different manner, and she pressed herself against him more tightly in an attempt to fill the void within her.

 

Darcy reacted instantly, his lips brushing hers as soft as a whisper. Elizabeth’s eyelids drifted closed as she focused on the delicate sensation as the tip of his tongue traced a line between her lips. A tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach threatened to engulf her. Without conscious thought she allowed her lips to part at his sensuous urging, and she was shocked at her own eager response to the unexpected intimacy of his tongue exploring her mouth. She could taste the warm sweetness of port and a tantalizing hint of something like cloves, sending fire sweeping through as she clung to him.

 

Instinctively she responded, meeting his ardor with her own burgeoning passion. Even though it felt as if her entire being was centered in the spot where their mouths met, somehow she was aware of the warmth of his hands exploring her back, tantalizing her with light touches as he stroked downward toward her hips. A melting warmth spread inside her at his every caress until she felt nothing in the world mattered beyond this astonishing sensation. All she wanted was to be even closer, until nothing could come between them. She arched against him, and Darcy’s response was to hold her even tighter.

 

The sharp knock at the door barely registered to Elizabeth until Darcy’s lips were no longer on hers. She opened her eyes to see the sharp angles of his face, his eyes dark with passion and his breathing uneven.

 

He touched her cheeks lightly with both hands. “My sweetest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he said softly.

 

Her mind still would not formulate words, but she managed to remember to step away from him as the door opened.

 

Mr. Gardiner stepped into the room just as Darcy was straightening his cravat. “Our carriage is waiting, Lizzy.”

 

Darcy offered her his arm. “May I see you to your carriage?”

 

“Of course,” Elizabeth murmured. As she rested her hand on his elbow, she took advantage of his proximity to lay her head against his shoulder. She felt the brief pressure of his kiss on her forehead.

 

Their hands clung as he handed her into the carriage. As they drove away, Elizabeth was grateful that her aunt and uncle did not try to engage her overmuch in conversation. Her mind and her heart were still at Pemberley.

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

The following morning, Darcy appeared at the inn before breakfast with the intention of spending as much of the day as possible with Elizabeth. She had spent much of the previous night reliving his kisses with enough pleasure that she found herself blushing when he first entered the room. But if it was hard to meet his eyes at first, she quickly overcame that as he took advantage of every possible opportunity to touch her arm or the back of her hand, each caress reminding her of the fire between them. If only she could kiss him again!

 

The plan for the day called for a visit to Dove Dale, a journey made swifter and more comfortable in Darcy’s elegant and luxurious carriage. They stopped twice en route at Darcy’s recommendation to view a scenic vista, and Elizabeth again had the feeling he was watching her with unusual intensity.

 

She had seen illustrations of Dove Dale and heard her uncle wax eloquent about the famous trout stream that ran through it, but nothing had not prepared her for the loveliness of the valley with its thickly wooded slopes and towering pinnacles of rocks. She turned in place, taking in the sight.

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