Page 55 of Wedding at Pemberley

He caressed her face, and she whispered, “Someone may see us!”

“Elizabeth Bennet, we are in our own home. Must I wait until we are behind a locked door to kiss you?”

“Someone might come!”

He laughed. “Then they will leave us alone, my dearest.”

“Then at least come into my room,” she pleaded, still afraid of being seen.

“At last!” he teased, lifting her into his arms. He laid her on the bed, covering her with kisses and caressing her bare shoulders.

“This is not what I meant!” Elizabeth exclaimed, alarmed by her own invitation.

“And what did you mean when you asked me into your room, my dear lady?” he enquired with a teasing smile, looking into her eyes.

Unexpectedly, the usually courageous lady blushed and murmured, “I thought you would only kiss me!”

“And what was I doing, madam?”

“You—” She paused, confused but unafraid, longing for more, yet restrained by her upbringing and the rules of the world outside.

When she said nothing more, he continued his tender caresses, and soon her gown, loosened beneath his hands, slipped down to her waist.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed, her cheeks burning. He rose and removed his coat, waistcoat and shirt. She had never seen a man’s bare chest before, and she gazed at him in astonishment. He returned to her, and the warmth of his skin against hers drew a soft murmur from her lips.

“Please…I wish to save this for our wedding night!”

To her surprise, he rose at once, gathered his clothes from the floor, kissed her hair and left.

Only then did she realise that one of the doors led directly to his bedchamber. She lay upon the bed, half-undressed, still feeling his lips upon her breasts, relieved that he had gone, only to regret a moment later that she had sent him away.

Her skin was warm wherever he had kissed her, and her body ached with a pleasure she had never known. She put on her nightgown without calling for help, as she had always done, unable to face the maids.

She meant to go to sleep, but the longing within her would not subside. She remembered his lips and hands until the distance between them became unbearable. She drank some water and washed her face, but neither helped. She tried to sleep, yet sleep seemed further away than ever. She could feel only his bare body beside her, the pleasure of his closeness and the strange thrill of his touch.

Barefoot, she crept towards the door to his bedchamber and listened, but heard nothing. More than an hour had passed since he had left, and she thought he must be asleep, so she dared to open the door. His room was dark, lit only by the light from hers. She approached his bed quietly and watched him sleeping, unable to bring herself to leave.

Then he opened his eyes and smiled, leaving her to decide what would happen next. For long moments, they looked at each other, happy to know Pemberley would be their home and they would always be together.

“What is it, Elizabeth?” he asked at last, and she felt his love for her like a rising tide.

“I have come,” she replied.

“I see that. You may go back to sleep…or…”

She said nothing, but lay down beside him, abandoning her shyness and doubts, her fears and questions, as he took her into his arms.

“Are you sure, Elizabeth?” he whispered in her ear.

“Yes!”

She wanted to tell him she wished to be his wife, but could not bring herself to say it yet.

He touched her shoulders with infinite tenderness and caressed her through her nightgown, though he longed for more. She felt the urge to resist again, and he whispered, “Do you trust me, Elizabeth?”

She did.

“Then give me your hands. Let me show you things about yourself you have never imagined, and then you shall learn about me. If you still wish to go further tonight, we shall…”