Page 57
“Pray tell, is this a favourite pastime of yours?” Elizabeth asked in reference to his stargazing.
“If you are referring to this,” Darcy turned her hand upward and kissed her palm gently, “I should say so.”
“Mr. Darcy, you are a shameless flirt,” Elizabeth teased as she withdrew her hand.
“I remind you, it is only with you that I behave this way. You, woman, have bewitched me.”
Elizabeth eased towards the edge of the balcony and placed her hands thereupon. She looked to the stars. Darcy joined her. Standing but a few feet apart, he too took up watch.
“Is gazing at the stars a favourite pastime of yours?”
“Not since I was a child, I am afraid. Even then, I could identify but a few constellations.”
“Allow me to guess, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.”
“How ever did you surmise that, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked, allowing his teasing without taking offence.
“I suppose it to be part of one’s childhood teachings. What of the others: Orion, Canis Major, Canis Minor, Perseus, and Taurus, just to name a few?”
“I am afraid my teachings were lacking in that regard,” she confessed as she resumed her study of the heavens.
“Allow me to make up for any deficits,” he whispered. By then, any response other than yes on Elizabeth’s part would have proved disadvantageous. She stood captured in his embrace. With one hand resting on her waist, Darcy’s other hand slowly guided her hand across the night’s sky. In no hurry, he traced the path of the stars forming the various constellations, one after the other, whispering the names of each softly in her ear.
Lost in the moment, Elizabeth remained silent throughout as she nestled in his arms. She could not imagine a better moment; the sheer delight of his arm freely resting along her waist, the warmth of his breath tracing softly along her neck, and his hands gently touching hers. As much as it was a pleasure for Elizabeth to be ensconced in Darcy’s embrace, and as much as she relished the intoxicating effects of the excitement engendered by his tender, arousing voice, their intimacy was a torment to Darcy’s sensibilities; painfully aching, sweet, torture. Darcy unhurriedly relinquished his impassioned hold, though he could not bring himself to let go of her hand.
“Elizabeth, I have but one wish to voice before we part for the evening … surely you must know what it is. My greatest wish is that you will marry me, that I shall soon be a husband to you and a father to Ben. Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.”
After what seemed an eternity in his mind but was merely a few seconds, Elizabeth raised Darcy’s hand and brushed a light kiss across his knuckles. “Wish granted,” she whispered.
“Yes?” Darcy asked. He had waited long. He needed to hear her speak the word.
“A thousand times, yes!” Elizabeth exclaimed. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears of joy. A bright smile graced her lovely face. “It seems you were not the only one who used the night’s stars to their greatest advantage this evening.”
“Truly, Elizabeth?”
“Indeed, it has been my greatest wish, as well, that you would ask me again. I was beginning to think you might not, you know. However, I can by no means fault you in taking so long. I needed time to put my recent past in its proper perspective, and you allowed just that. How shall I ever thank you enough for your patience?”
“My wish did include we should be married soon,” Darcy reminded.
“Although not too soon, for we must observe all the requisite decorum.” Elizabeth’s last sentiment was met with a furrowed brow, hinting at a measure of dismay. Elizabeth placed her hand lovingly on his cheek. “Please, do not look so forlorn. I am asking you to bear with me but a short while longer. After all, we are a family already, are we not? You are as much a father to Ben as anyone might expect or even dare to wish.”
“Yes, but I am hardly a husband to you,” Darcy spoke in a soft, tender voice.
“Are you not? Have you not cared for and provided for me for the past months as a husband would care and provide for his wife?” she teased. “Might I expect something more upon taking the actual wedding vows?” Elizabeth asked. She called on her best imitation of a fair maiden in so doing.
Darcy took her delicate wrists in hand. “Teasing woman, were I your husband, without fail, you would know the difference.” He trailed kisses along her wrists. “Every night would find you drifting asleep in my arms, wonderfully satiated from the feast of our lovemaking.” He resumed his pleasing kisses. “Every morning would find you rousing in my arms, ravenous for more.”
Elizabeth had no doubt of the veracity of his words. Did she not fall asleep so many nights with pleasant dreams to that effect? She blushed and turned slightly away from him. “You make the prospect of our life as husband and wife sound delightful, Mr. Darcy.”
“Indeed. When shall we be married?” Darcy drew Elizabeth into the cradle of his arms, her back meshed snugly against his chest. “What amount of time constitutes proper decorum?”
“Two months seem a respectable period.” Elizabeth reclaimed the warm, comfortable spot she had treasured some moments earlier as she snuggled in closer.
Darcy removed the pins from Elizabeth’s hair, freeing it to cascade down her back. He wove his fingers through her long, dark tresses and took in the delightful scent of lavender, before gently brushing her locks aside to find a most enticing spot behind her ear. “A se’ennight,” he whispered. The soft music of his voice sent tremors through her body.
“At least six weeks,” Elizabeth whispered in kind.
Darcy trailed his fingers along Elizabeth’s slender neckline and traced a subtle pattern on her bare shoulders before guiding her to face him. He chose a spot at the tip of her brow on which to lavish his attentions, effectively commencing the next round of debate. “A se’ennight,” he insisted before breaking off talks.
