When he moaned and turned his head into her hand, she spoke. “Everything will be well, William, I am here. Just go to sleep.” He mumbled something incoherent again. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she pulled up the sheets and blankets and tucked them around him. It felt right to care for him while he was in this state. She leaned down and pressed a kiss against his lips. “Good night, William.”
He responded with a moan and his words were barely understandable, slurred and mixed, but she heard him say Elizabeth, do not go.
His eyes were closed, but his hands reached up for her. She leaned in and let his hands find her waist. He was still very much asleep, but his lips were pursed looking for hers. She giggled at the sight, and then leaned down and kissed him again. She paused just above him. One more kiss will not hurt, she thought, and then kissed him a third time. She felt his hands draw her towards him in for one more kiss, his lips now moving frantically with hers. If she didn’t know better she would have thought he had woken up. His hands fumbled as he tried to pull her even closer and caressed her back in a clumsy and yet endearing way. He definitely is still asleep. She let him kiss her for a moment, and soon he dropped his hands and his lips began to slow. He stopped kissing her and she pulled away. His face wore a gentle smile on it now. She reached for his face one more time. She wanted for the first time that night to stay with him, at least while he was in this sedated state. She wanted to hold him and care for him in any way she could. She sat down on the bed beside him and just watched his chest rise and fall, a habit she had taken up once she had realized how masculine his build was.
He let out a big moan and swung his arm up by his head, flopping it on the pillow. She felt moved with his peaceful state, and for some reason, felt peaceful as well. Her situation should cause her anxiety, but all she felt was a deep love for her husband. She was moved that he would talk about the chickens to Bingley. Some part of her gave as she realized that even in his sedated state he would ask her to stay with him. Even unaware of what he was doing, he wanted to kiss her. She loved him, and she was amazed at the depth of emotions she was feeling. She stood up and walked to the other side of the bed. Without fully examining her behavior, she pulled the covers down and slid in next to him. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night in his arms.
She carefully slid in under the arm that was still on the pillow and placed her head on his chest. He moaned and turned slightly towards her, bringing his arm down around her. She froze for a moment. What he would think of her laying next to him? After a short while, the rhythm of his breathing became regular again. The rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his body so close to hers made her sleepy. She concluded that since she didn’t quite know how he would react to her sliding under his arm, and in bed, no less, that she would rise early and slip out of the position before he noticed. She listened for a while to his steady heartbeat. She would have been shocked at her behavior earlier that day, but at the moment, as her head rose and fell with his breathing, and feeling the comfort she felt in holding him, she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She wanted to be in his arms. She wanted to wake up in this position, even if it was before him. With one last moment awake, she whispered, “I love you, William.” She then closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heart put her to sleep.
*****
Mr. Darcy was dreaming he was galloping through a field of lavender. Each thud of the hooves seemed to jar his body and vibrate all the way to his head. Pounding, thudding, jarring. He didn’t understand why Calypso was so clumsy this ride. He could hear and feel the wind on his neck coming and going at regular intervals which didn’t make sense either. He tried to readjust himself in the saddle, but he could not shake the sensation of feeling heavy and hot. Pounding, thudding, jarring. He focused on the lavender. It was calming and seemed to remind him of something, no, not something . . . someone! Elizabeth!
His eyes flung open to an unfamiliar room. Where was he? He was in a bed, but not at Pemberley. Blinking, he looked around the room, but his body told him who was beside him before he actually saw her. Her chocolate hair rested across his chest, and he could smell her familiar lavender scent. She was laying on his chest. Why is Elizabeth sleeping on me? Where am I? What in the world happened last night? His mind felt foggy, and his head pounded, his eyes dry and hardly able to scan the room. He made himself do it anyway, and saw his trunks in the corner. Realization hit him like a brick wall. He was at Netherfield, in bed with Elizabeth, when he shouldn’t be. He groaned. He drank too much, further explanation for the pounding of his head. He could not remember anything that had taken place after billiards with Bingley right after dinner. He vaguely remembered Miss Bingley interrupting their game but after that he did not know what happened.
Did I take advantage of Elizabeth? He seemed fully dressed; at least he felt like he had breeches on, but the blankets were covering his legs. He lifted his head slightly to evaluate Elizabeth’s state of dress, but the movement made him regret it immediately. It seemed like she wore both her nightdress and robe, but he couldn’t be certain. All but her shoulders were covered. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what happened. The closeness of her body to his was more distracting than the pounding in his head, and that was saying something. Her chest rose and fell evenly and slowly, her sweet breath blowing on his neck causing goosebumps and chills to run up and down his spine . . . that explains the wind at regular intervals in my dream. He kept his eyes closed and evaluated how much of him was actually touching her. That didn’t take long to figure out because he was acutely aware of her closeness. Her arm was draped around his chest, her head on his chest with her face angled up towards him, and her leg was on one of his . . . that explains the heavy feeling in my dream. He sighed. If she wasn’t ready yesterday afternoon to share a room, he did not know how he was going to apologize for not only sharing a room but a bed as well. He concluded that he must not have ever asked Bingley about getting a second room. He groaned again. It was the first time he showed himself untrustworthy and he was beyond reproach.
He wanted to chastise himself, to punish himself in any way possible, but his body was responding intensely to having her so close. His heart thudded faster and his palms were sweaty. He was overwhelmed with her lavender scent that he loved so much. He decided that he would chastise himself later because right now he could barely think straight and it would be a lot easier–– and a lot more fun–– to simply enjoy the moment. He spent the next ten minutes memorizing every area that was warm from her touch. He even could tell where her foot was on his shin. He could tell where her knee was; that was the bony area on his thigh. He willed himself not to think higher, but she moved slightly and her head tilted down away from his neck. Her breath fell in another direction. That helped. Thank goodness! I must get myself out of this situation! He had prayed for patience and self-control and never before had he needed it more than the present moment.
It took all his will power to scoot his hips away, then slide out from under her head and chest. He took both hands and gently placed her head and shoulders on the bed where he had been lying. He slid his leg out from under hers. The movement made her squirm slightly. He froze, watching and waiting to see if she would wake up. Her breathing slowed and became regular again. His body no longer touched hers, and the absence of it was both helpful and painful. He got out of bed and stood up, a task that reminded him of how bad his head hurt. He was relieved to see that he was indeed fully dressed except for his boots. He was not quite sure where they were at the moment. All he knew was he needed some fresh air and a cold glass of water too, if he could find one. A cold bath would help him take control of the moment he was sure. She moaned and rolled over, leaving her face up in plain view of his sore, painful eyes. She was magnificent. He studied her beautiful face for a moment— well, more than a moment— several minutes, in fact. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that basking in her morning beauty would not get him any closer to the door. He slo
wly turned towards the door. Movement was not pleasant, but leaving her after having been so close to her was even more painful. He stepped out into the hallway in his stockings and carefully turned around to get one more glimpse of her face. He then backed out of the room and closed the door ever so quietly, more to prevent further pain in his throbbing head then in efforts to avoid waking her. He was startled by the sound of footsteps right behind him.
“Why, Mr. Darcy!” Miss Bingley squealed. “I am so glad to see you this morning! But what are you doing in your clothes from last night and why do you not have your boots on?” She looked him up and down. His clothes were terribly wrinkled and she watched as his hand came up to his head.
He closed his eyes, hoping her screeching would be less painful, but it didn’t help any. All it did for him was cause her words to echo in his head and remind him of his state of dress. He opened them, taking a good look at her. She was elaborately dressed for the morning, primped and decorated with a feathered hat. Her toilette water smelled of old flowers too. He had to say something because she was staring at him expectantly. He knew if he could just think of something quickly her screeching would not start up again, and it was unbearable at the moment. “I was going to find a servant to fetch some water for a shave. I did not know anyone was awake.” He hadn’t realized that speaking sent the vibrations from his voice all the way to his head, making him nearly dizzy.
“I will have them send some up right away. They are very quick with those things.”
He nodded his thanks and turned to leave but where should he go? He decided that he had better find his boots and find a place to hide until the throbbing stopped. “Then I shall wait in my room.” He turned carefully and reopened the door he just exited. He entered slowly, looking at the ground, placing his feet carefully one in front of the other. It seemed to help the head if he was soft footed. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the door with his eyes shut. Keeping the eyes shut helped too.
“Good morning, William. I see you are walking on two legs again. That is an improvement from last night.” She watched his eyes fly open and his head whip around to look at her before, in the same moment, his hand flung up and gripped his head. She chuckled, “Have a headache, dear?”
His head was pounding so hard that he struggled to find his words. He had so much he wanted to say, to ask, but he found speaking to be quite painful. He opened his eyes again, this time carefully evaluating her. She was teasing him. Her face wore a small smile, and she had in fact, just laughed. So, he concluded, she wasn’t too angry at him, which he didn’t quite understand. “I have much to apologize for it seems, but with the state of my head, do you mind if we do so later when it does not hurt as badly? I would really love to know how I ended up in your bed.”
“You do not remember sleeping with your wife? I am offended!” She teased. She couldn’t help herself. She knew he felt miserable, but the situation was quite funny, considering he was so distraught because he couldn’t remember what happened. She saw his eyes show alarm as he took in all that those carefully chosen words she spoke implied. He fidgeted and she heard him groan. She didn’t know how long she could punish him like this.
“Elizabeth, please do not play with me. My feelings cannot be trifled with this morning. Did I do anything to you last night?” The words were painful to say: more out of fear for the answer than the actual pounding in his head.
She wasn’t done teasing him yet. He deserved to be punished. “Your hands were quite bold last night if I remember it right . . .” She saw him wince.
Oh dear Lord! Please don’t tell me my fantasies took over! He looked over at her once again. She had a smirk on her face that she was attempting to cover up with her hand. “I am so sorry; I should never have done so.”
“I believe you stole a kiss or two as well.” She saw true pain in his eyes and her heart softened. It wasn’t fair to tease him when he was hurting so badly. “Come now William, I was only teasing you. Nothing really happened. Nothing that hasn’t already happened between us unless you count sleeping in each other’s arms. And I suppose that was not so bad considering we are married.”
He felt no small degree of relief and his knees weakened and he slid his back down the door and sat on the floor. He put his head in his hands and started massaging the temples. He heard her get up and come over to him.
She lifted his head and said, “Come over to the bed and I will rub your head like Serafina does to me when I have a headache.”
He did as he was told. Anything to help the pounding would be welcomed, and he had to admit having her hands move throughout his neck and shoulders sounded heavenly. She sat on the bed and he sat on the ground in front of her. Her small hands started at the scalp and started combing her fingers through his hair, pulling the hair outward with gentle pressure. She kneaded his tight scalp and massaged his upper neck. Her hands worked their way to the forehead, and she pressed her fingers in a caressing way, smoothing the tight lines etched into his brow away. Her cool hands felt good on his face. He felt the pounding slowly lessen. Soon she was rubbing firmly at his lower neck and shoulders with her thumbs pushing deep. The sensation gave him chills. He was hyperaware of every movement of her hands and fingers, loving when she pressed and saddened when she lifted them away. He kept thinking she was going to stop every time her hands lifted, but she continued kneading and massaging. He didn’t want her to stop, not only because the headache was getting better but because he rather enjoyed having her hands touching him in such a way.
“Is that better?” She finally rested her hands on his shoulders. She may have been in a playful mood earlier, but caring for him in this manner just reminded her of the incredible night’s sleep she had. She had never slept so well. Somehow sleeping in his arms was exactly what she needed and she was eager to do it again. She felt relieved that her previous anxieties about how sharing a bed would alter their relationship were gone. If anything, she felt more for him.
Darcy had known that the moment would not last forever. He reached his hands up to his shoulders and took her hands in his. He pulled on them, slightly pulling her to his back. She complied and hugged him from behind, wrapping their clasped hands around his chest. She nestled her face into his neck and kissed the sensitive flesh there. New goosebumps ran up and down his spine, and his heart skipped a beat. She then sat up, pulling away slightly. He turned around and got to his knees facing her. She was so lovely. “I hope you do not mind but I watched you sleep for a little while.”
“I admit I rather enjoyed seeing your face while you slept too. I seem to be studying it more often lately,” she whispered.
He reached his hands up to her face, “Ah, but your face is one I know better than my own heartbeat.” He leaned in and gave her lips a gentle chaste kiss, sending that very heartbeat racing. “Thank you, I feel much better.”
Chapter 12
A
fter breakfast, Elizabeth could see Darcy was feeling better, but he still moved cautiously, wincing at loud noises. He was collecting his belongings at the door. “You will promise to be careful, William?”
Darcy looked at her concerned face. He wasn’t looking forward to tracking down Wickham, especially given the state he was in. His head was better, but admittedly still throbbed a great deal. He had tried to rehydrate himself with water but couldn’t help but drink some of the coffee that smelled so heavenly. Both, at least, had helped to some degree. “Yes, dear, I will be careful. Are you sure you do not want my carriage to take you to Longbourn?”
“No, I want to walk. I am about ready to leave myself. I just have a few things to gather that I wanted to give them. I found a book for my father when we stayed in London and have neglected to send it to him. Now I will have the chance to give it to him in person.”
Darcy looked puzzled. “When did you go to a bookstore?”
She blushed a little. “My Aunt Gardiner took me the day I was fitted for the dress I wore to the theatre. I hope you d
o not mind, but I put the book under your name. The owner knew you well and was sure you would not mind.”
He touched her pink cheek. “No, not at all, I am glad you did. What book did you find?” He was pleased she had felt comfortable enough so long ago to get what she wanted without having to ask.
“It is new, on the rise of Napoleon in France. I do not know much about the author, but I admit the topic is what will truly draw his interest.” To Elizabeth, it seemed they were talking about everything but what they both knew would happen today. William was going to try to meet with that rake and attempt to turn him over to the magistrate. She was so worried she could hardly turn her eyes from him all morning. She wanted to memorize his face in fear that she would not see it again.
“Sounds interesting,” he said as lightly as he could. “I might have to borrow it from him. Well, dearest Elizabeth, I must be off. Have a nice time with your family.” He opened the door and walked to the carriage, but realized after a few moments that Elizabeth was still following him. “Was there something else you needed?”
“Not so much needed, but wanted . . .” She leaned up on her toes to kiss him firmly on his lips.” He was grinning, his eyes smiling so handsomely. She smiled back at him. “Be careful, and come back as soon as you can. I will probably remain at Longbourn as long as you are gone, so please join me when you can.”
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