Once they reached the library, Elizabeth retrieved her CD from her purse and handed it to him. “Fitzwilliam, play this. I’m in the mood for Rod Stewart. It’s our last night together for three weeks, and I want you to hold me while we dance.”
He tensed. The contents of the CD and her provocative suggestion unnerved him. His eyes searched hers carefully as he placed the disc in the player. Pulling her into his embrace, he held her close, swaying to the slow melody. The scent of her perfume and the sensation of her body next to his, along with the soft music, all combined to awaken the slow burn he had tried very hard to control. He pulled back and gazed into her eyes, attempting to read her thoughts.
And then he saw it…desire. The same desire that he’d seen in the cabin at Longbourn, the same desire that ached within him—the desire he’d fought so hard to suppress. Suddenly, his body burst into flames. On impulse, he reached back and removed her clip, dropping it to the floor and freeing her long, flowing hair, letting it cascade over her shoulders and down her back.
She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, pulling him down, taking his mouth in a fiercely possessive kiss. The sensation hit him like a blow to the chest. He groaned and pulled her tighter into his arms, the desire to make love to her overriding his senses as he kissed her again and again while the music played.
Breaking the kiss, he stepped back and whispered, “I love you, Liz...I love you, but I’m only a man. You’re making this very hard for me to keep our agreement. I don’t think you understand what a woman can do to a man who is in love with her.”
“Oh, I think I do,” she murmured. “Just kiss me…hold me.”
She melted into his body and pulled him closer while her fingers sank into his thick, dark curls. Helpless to do anything but obey, his arms slipped around her, gathering her to him as one hand encircled her waist while the other tangled in her hair.
“Elizabeth… my Elizabeth …I love you,” he softly said, skimming her lips with his before capturing them in a deep kiss, kissing her over and over again.
Breaking away, he dusted light kisses all over her face and then trailing down the curve of her neck to the space between her ear and shoulder where he suckled and kissed. Running his tongue over her pulse, he felt it throb in perfect time to the ache throbbing in him. His tongue stroked the valley between her breasts, licking and kissing, softly whispering words of love before retracing the path to catch her lips once again. He both heard and felt the small whimper that escaped her throat as her mouth eagerly engaged his, returning his passion with equal fervor and need. Fully aroused, he pressed and stroked against her, causing them both to burn.
The next thing he knew, they were on the sofa, and his hand was under her sweater. Reaching back, he unhooked her bra and cupped her bare breast, moaning softly at the feel of her silky skin against his hand. His palm lightly grazed her firm nipple before taking her breast in a gentle caress, massaging it with a slow, deliberate movement. The song Tonight’s the Night played, and the words, the mood, and the feel her body, all ignited a blaze within him like liquid fire coursing through his veins. She was seducing him, and he knew it, but he was too weak to resist or even care.
“What are you doing to me?” he pleaded on a ragged breath. “Have you any idea what you’re doing?” He kissed her again with uninhibited passion, pulling her into his body, pressing hard against her.
Elizabeth gazed into his eyes. “Yes, I do,” she murmured softly. “I know exactly what I’m doing. Tonight’s the night.”
“Elizabeth, are you sure…absolutely sure? Once we start down this road, there is no going back. And, as I’ve told you before, I won’t take anything from you that you don’t freely give.”
“I know, and…yes, I am.” She nodded. “I’m very sure…I can’t wait until June.”
That was all he needed to hear. Fitzwilliam took Elizabeth’s hand and led her up the stairs to his bedroom. He cupped her face and caressed her high cheekbones with his thumbs as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever beheld. Taking in a steadying breath, he dipped his head and kissed her tenderly, his tongue exploring… tasting… savoring. When they broke the kiss, he lit a candle.
After undressing, they stood facing one another. His eyes moved over her body, tracing her every sensual line. Elizabeth was more beautiful than he had ever imagined. Stretching forth his hand, Fitzwilliam brushed the tips of his fingers over her face, tracing her jaw line to her chin, hovering there for a moment, and then continuing down the hollow of her throat and over her collarbone. His nimble fingers edged downward, clutching her firm, round breast. He held it in the palm of his hand as he brushed his thumb over her nipple, watching it harden. She closed her eyes and gently swallowed—the pleasure of his touch written across her face as she inhaled deeply. Releasing her breast, he stroked down her side, pausing in the arc of her waist. It was small, and her hips nicely curved. Her hair covered her like Lady Godiva, and he was sure, more than ever, that she looked like an elvish princess.
He ran his fingers through her hair, spreading it over her shoulders like a cloak. She glanced up, catching his gaze and holding it, her eyes shining. It humbled him to know that she was pure, that she had saved herself for him, her husband. He would treasure her always as he made her his.
As she reached up and grazed his face with her small hand, he turned and kissed her palm. Her hand gently caressed downward over the strong planes of his chest, running her fingers through the tuft of hair over his heart, pausing to feel its steady beat.
Breathing erratically, he closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her hand exploring his body as she continued slowly over his abdomen in light, feathery touches with the back of her fingers, traveling lower until she caught him in the palm of her hand. He opened his eyes, and their gaze locked.
“Will it fit?” she asked.
“It’ll fit,” he reassured.
She dropped her hand to her side. “We need a towel for the bed,” she whispered softly as he turned and pulled back the bedcovers.
He presumed she didn’t want to leave the evidence of her innocence behind for Mrs. Norris to find, so he quickly did as she had asked. After turning on the sound system, he picked her up and gently laid her on the towel. Then he climbed into bed beside her.
Her eyes, filled with desire and love, burned into his while the song Feels so Right softly played in the background.
“Elizabeth, as far as I’m concerned, this is our wedding night. Your virtue is kept and honored with me. I intend to make you my wife.”
“Fitzwilliam, I am not worried about it. I trust you…I love you. It’s better to love than to burn.”
“And better to marry than wait.”
She nodded.
The look in her beautiful eyes spoke to him from the depths of her heart. He would take their lovemaking slowly, easing her as gently as he could into the consummation of their union.
“I love you, Liz. You have no idea how much. I won’t hurt you…not if I can help it.”
“I know.”
Drawing in a tattered breath, he lowered his mouth to hers, catching her lips, exploring her mouth as one hand followed the curve of her body while the other held her close. He kissed her face, licking her lips, suckling them before devouring her mouth.
She kissed him back with equal passion, threading her fingers into his hair, fiercely taking his mouth in challenge, kissing him like she’d never kissed him before. He was pleased by her response—no, more than pleased—he was elated. His mouth found its way with hot, wet kisses to her neck and shoulder, working his way to her breast. Taking it in his hand, he gently caressed it before gently running his tongue over her firm tip, grazing it with his teeth, nipping and flicking it with his tongue before suckling it.
His hand descended over her well-toned, muscled stomach, gently stroking her silken hair. She arched into his hand, writhing at his touch. Pleased with her reaction, his hand found its way to her center, touching and caressing her as
she trembled and softly moaned his name. His mouth covered hers to suppress a cry as his hand continued stroking her.
She shook violently when his fingers slid inside where he found her fully aroused and more than ready for him. He sighed softly, parting her legs with his knee, settling between her thighs, and adjusted himself.
“I don’t want to cause you pain, my love, but I’m afraid I may not be able to help it. If it’s too much for you, then tell me, and I’ll stop. I love you so very much.”
“No. Please don’t stop. I...I want you.” Her voice quivered.
With one last look into her beautiful eyes, he drew in a sharp breath and entered her with one hard thrust, breaking through her virginal barrier, and settling himself inside of her. But when she cried out in pain, he stopped.
“Liz, are you all right? Do you want me to stop? I think I still can.” His voice strained, struggling for control.
“No, please don’t,” she pleaded. “I want this very much. Fitzwilliam, I love you. Please love me…please, please don’t stop.”
Gathering her into his arms, he held her close.
“Liz, try to relax,” he reassured her. “If you relax, the pain will ease, and all you’ll feel is pleasure. Trust me.”
“I do.” She breathed softly as she ran her fingers into his hair and kissed him.
Slowly and tenderly he kissed her until he felt her unwind. As her body gave in to his, she raised her legs and wrapped them around him.
“That’s right, Liz. Just let yourself go and let me love you, darling…let me love you…” his voice trailed off as his lips reclaimed hers in a warm, tender kiss before his mind closed down completely and pure instinct took over as he made love to her.
He collapsed on top of her, spent with pleasure and exhaustion, both of them trembling. They embraced each other tightly as he feverishly kissed her, finally achieving his long-held desire. Rolling over, he took her with him and held her firm against his body, stroking her every curve as he whispered words of endearment.
“Liz…Liz, I love you…now and forever…I love you,” he said softly, kissing her face and hair. “It’ll be better next time, my love. I promise. I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.”
“The pain was fleeting. It quickly passed.” She released a sigh. “So this is what it’s like to be loved. I always wondered.” She softly laughed as her fingers played in the damp curls on his chest.
He chuckled. “It gets better. You’ll learn to enjoy it even more than you can imagine.”
Elizabeth nestled close with her head on his shoulder. “Fitzwilliam, I love you. I can’t imagine it being better, but if it is, I’m very much looking forward to it.”
They drifted off to sleep for a little while before awakening to make love again. They continued throughout the night until the early morning hours. With each encounter, Elizabeth became a little more relaxed.
He was amazed that she appeared to enjoy their lovemaking as much as he did. He had always heard that was not the case for a woman’s first time. He also knew she was passionately in love with him, or she would never have decided to trust him.
As he held her close, securely tucked in the curve of his body, he softly said, “Liz, I hate to do this, but we must get up and shower. I have to pick Charles up at your house at six.”
“I know. It’s been planned. I knew you’d have to leave this morning.”
“I don’t want to leave you, especially now. In fact, all I want to do is stay right here making love to you over and over again, but I must go. When I get back, we’ll make plans about getting married. After last night, I can’t bear to be parted from you ever again.”
“Fitzwilliam, I hate to see you go. I’m going to miss you,” she said, clinging to him as she kissed his cheek.
“I know, Liz. I know. But I have to go. I’ll ring you up every day. Expect my call around five p.m. your time,” he said as they lay there holding one another.
A few minutes more and they rose to shower and then quickly dressed to return to the Bennett townhouse. Jane and Charles had risen earlier, and Jane had breakfast waiting when they entered the house. Since the car Fitzwilliam and Charles were taking to the airport had been packed the day before, after breakfast the men said their goodbyes, leaving the ladies teary-eyed on the front porch as the first rays of morning light peered over the mountain and split the eastern sky.
Chapter Fourteen
…she’s the one…the one I’ve searched for…
Fitzwilliam found the flight to London long and tedious, with rest eluding him. Twisting in his seat in an attempt to find a comfortable position, he glanced at Charles resting next to him and smiled. Apparently Charles had no such problem. He was sound asleep and snoring gently.
Finally finding a comfortable position, Fitzwilliam picked up the book in his lap and retrieved the photographs he’d placed there before leaving Tennessee. They were pictures of him and Elizabeth on the farm. He held them in his hand, slowly shuffling through them one-by-one, grinning as he savored the sweet memories. Placing them back in the book, he yawned as he closed his eyes.
…Elizabeth… He smiled a contented smile, almost able to smell the scent of her perfume as he thought about their impending future. He wanted to spend a lifetime with her—to have a family. A family like she’d had growing up. To sit and work together, to do course preparations and mark papers, to take her to bed each night after the work was done and make love to her, and then to wake up in the morning with her in his arms and love her all over again. He wanted her as his wife. And the mere thought of her bearing his child thrilled and overwhelmed him. But…Father. He moaned, his features contorting into a grimace.
He knew his father would object. Elizabeth would not be worthy of the Darcy name. She would hurt the family standing in both the business world and London society. Of course, none of this was true, but his father would spew it forth just the same. It didn’t matter.
Fitzwilliam drifted in and out of thought and sleep for the entire flight, only to become fully awake as the plane circled Heathrow, waiting for permission to land. Once they were on the ground, Fitzwilliam wasted no time exiting the plane and going through customs. Since David had arrived earlier, he was there to meet them.
“Brother, Bingley, how was your flight?” David asked with a big smile, slapping them both on the back.
“It was long and wearisome,” Fitzwilliam replied as they began to walk. “We had a security problem leaving out of Nashville, causing the delay we experienced. So, I’m more than ready to get home. Let’s get out of here.”
“In a hurry to see Father, I see.” David laughed, shaking his head. “Well, come along then.”
“No, David, I am not in a hurry to see Father. I merely want to find a place to relax, have a brandy and maybe a cigar.”
“Bingley, how about you?” David turned to greet his friend. “Do you want to come with us? We can unload your things at your townhouse.”
“No, but thank you, David. I need to get home. I have several things to do, and I want to ring Jane.”
“Jane? Who’s Jane?”
“Jane Bennett.” Bingley laughed. “She’s the most wonderful woman I know, and soon to be my wife. She’s an angel. We’ll go to White’s one day next week, and I’ll tell you everything.”
David chuckled. “I’m all ears. I have to hear all about her. And your Elizabeth, too, Fitzwilliam!” he said, turning to his brother. “You’ve certainly piqued my curiosity—the both of you. The Cumberland Plateau sounds like a place I need to stay away from, after seeing what it’s done to you two.”
“David, don’t you want to find someone and settle down someday?” Bingley asked.
“No, I’ll leave that to you and Fitzwilliam. I am not the marrying kind.”
Fitzwilliam looked at his brother in amusement. “You will be, when the right one comes along.”
David smiled and shook his head. “I highly doubt it, but one never knows.” He chortled. “Now, Fitzwi
lliam, you’ll have to check in at home and see the Old Man. He’s requested our presence, and you know what that means. It is he who must be obeyed,” David said with a laugh. He clapped his brother on the back once more as they exited the main door out into the crisp December air.
“I have every intention of seeing him. He is our father, after all, and I owe him due respect. Besides, I want to see him.”
~*~
Upon entering Darcy House, they were greeted by the butler. “Master Fitzwilliam, it’s so very good to see you home again, and you too, Master David.” The old butler smiled warmly. “Let me take your coats.”
“Thank you, Sammons,” Fitzwilliam returned cheerfully.
In a good mood, Fitzwilliam took the stairs two at a time, humming to himself as he walked to his room. In some ways, it was good to be home. His valet, Watson, was already laying out clothes for the evening. For once, Fitzwilliam was looking forward to dinner as he prepared to greet his father.
While Fitzwilliam showered, shaved, and dressed for the evening, he contemplated how he would approach his father. He would first speak with his brother, and then he would gauge his father’s mood. When the time was right, they would see him together. Lost in thought, he glanced up as Watson approached him.
“Sir, David asked me to inform you he would wait for you in the upstairs foyer before descending.”
“Thank you, Watson. I’ll go directly,” Fitzwilliam said, turning to face his valet. “Oh and see to it that I have some brandy and a box of Cuaba Generosos in my sitting room for tonight. That’ll be all.”
“Yes, sir.”
With that done, Fitzwilliam went to meet his brother. Approaching the stairs, he inquired, “Have you any idea what he wants?”
“Oh, I have a very good idea. He’s not happy in the least that you’ve gone to America. You’re going to hear about it, so prepare yourself. Also, he’s been in an unusually foul mood of late. He wants us married, so prepare yourself for that, too,” David turned to his brother with a sly grin, “and I don’t think he will be very receptive of an American as your choice, either. He and Aunt Hilda have been talking.”
The Cumberland Plateau Page 21