Page 90 of Compromise & Consequence
“It is a precaution, Mrs. Bennet. Mr. Darcy had a very credible threat leveled against him and he saw fit to ensure his safety while away from his home.”
In no way would Uncle Thomas tell his wife that Elizabeth was threatened. Her aunt’s nerves would be unable to deal with the stress.
“Would the threat be from that terrible man, Mr. Wickham? He was so very angry about Mr. Darcy refusing him the living and all the money he was to have received.”
“You know about that, Mrs. Bennet?” Darcy asked.
“Oh, yes, but the colonel told us how he had been paid and all of his sad stories were nothing but a pack of lies. But you know how people can get all puffed up with pride. Mr. Wickham would like to have a piece of you, I am sure. It is good you take your safety seriously. He was a military man. He could well do you harm if he so wished.”
Elizabeth stifled a soft snort behind her napkin. Even if Mr. Wickham was not on his way to Australia, there was no way – at least, not in this lifetime – that he would ever have bested her husband. He was too lily-livered to do anything more than whine and complain.
Because the ladies would need some time in the morning to dress for the wedding, they all agreed to retire earlier than normal. Elizabeth walked upstairs with Jane and after wishing her goodnight, continued to her bedchamber. The soldier, whom she’d learned was called Bellows, padded behind them on silent feet. She gave him a nod of recognition before closing her door and locking it behind her as instructed.
Her maid awaited within and helped her undress then unplaited her hair and began to brush it out.
“You have a key to the room, Danvers?”
“I do, ma’am, but upon leaving the room I am to hand it to the guard.”
Elizabeth felt comforted by the thought, but then her mind began to run amok. What if the guard were one of the henchmen? He would have access to her at night when no one would hear or see his activity. She sat at her vanity table long after Danvers left, tormented by her thoughts and fears. Finally, unable to quell them, she rose and silently moved toward the connecting door to the shared sitting room with her husband.
Keeping her head cocked, listening for any movement in the hall, she opened the door and entered the room. She made her way to the small table by the window. The moonlight that filtered through the semi-sheer curtains gave her enough light to see what she was about, and in less than two minutes, she had a chair braced beneath the doorknob to her bedchamber. Satisfied any assailant would be unable to enter the room without making a lot of noise, she then turned her attention to accessing her husband’s bedchamber.
His connecting door opened without a single sound and she slipped into the room. After pulling the door closed behind her, she leaned against it and concentrated on regulating herbreathing. Her heart pounded like crazy in her chest and she thought for sure it echoed throughout the house, alerting everyone to her location. Finally, her heart rate slowed along with her breathing and she knew she was alone in Darcy’s bedchamber. He was still downstairs with Uncle Thomas. Feeling much safer in his room, she padded toward the bed and slipped under the covers on the side that was next to the far wall. She reasoned Darcy would sleep closest to the door, as it was human nature to want an easy escape if needed when in an unfamiliar place, and the bed was large enough and the room dark enough that he would never know she slept beside him. At dawn, she would make her way back to her room and no one would be the wiser.
These thoughts and the sense of feeling safe allowed her to close her eyes and drift off to sleep.
***
After spending a tension-filled evening canvassing all sorts of plans and contingencies with Mr. Bennet, Darcy finally made his way upstairs for the night. He passed the guard outside Elizabeth’s door.
“Nothing to report, Bellows?” he asked the giant of a man.
“No, sir. All is quiet. I haven’t heard a peep from Mrs. Darcy since her maid quit the room.”
“Excellent, good evening, then.”
He entered his room, feeling rather foolish for wishing he had permission to join her. He could always slip through the sitting room and knock on her door. He shook his head. No, that was foolish. She had gone up a good hour earlier and was surely sound asleep. His head tilted up, like a wolf scenting the air, positive he could smell her perfume. He truly must be going daft with love for he was convinced her unique scent had permeatedhis bedchamber.
There was enough light from the waning fireplace that he did not need to light a taper, and his valet had been excused for the evening. He quickly stripped down to bare skin and slid between the freshly laundered sheets, laying on his back, hands behind his head, thinking of Elizabeth. Soon, as it so often occurred, one hand slid beneath the covers to take care of his burgeoning desire. With a familiar dream of him sliding into his wife’s welcoming body, he was startled when the blankets on the other side of his bed moved and a slender arm flung out and landed across his midsection, followed by a soft body that curled into his side like a perfectly fitted puzzle piece.
“Janie, you are unbearably hot,” she mumbled into his chest.
With that, a still-sleeping Elizabeth grabbed the covers and threw them off Darcy’s body. Too stunned to move, he released himself and tried to pluck a corner of the sheet back over the lower half of his body. He was not ashamed of his nakedness, but if Elizabeth awakened – and given where her head was located on the lower half of his chest – she’d get an eyeful of a certain part of his body that desperately wanted to know her intimately. Two dilemmas faced him. Covering his body and fighting his libido. He soon realized the battle was being lost on both sides. He could not reach the sheet and little puffs of air from her mouth had him twitching in erotic agony.
She shifted and dragged one leg over his.
Dear God in Heaven. Everything in him clamored to awaken her and assert his husbandly rights. He began to count backward from one hundred, in Latin, to take his mind off the supple length of his wife’s body wrapped around him. He had reached forty-seven when she moved again, her hand inching dangerously close to…
He would not survive. He would die a painful death withvivid, erotic thoughts in his mind and then spend the rest of eternity in purgatory reliving this moment with no release in sight. What had driven her to sleep in his bed? Surely, she had not come to entice him to consummate their marriage. She would not be encased head to toe in a serviceable nightgown if that had been her mission. No, something else drove her to seek sanctuary in his room. The plans of his aunt had upset Elizabeth more than she let on.
If anything calmed his libido, it was thoughts of Lady Catherine. He cupped Elizabeth’s head, holding her close to his chest, almost groaning aloud at the feel of her soft curls beneath his fingers. As long as he had life in his body, he would protect her.
Determined to keep her safe, even from himself, he finally managed to hook the sheet with his pinkie finger and pulled it up high enough to cover himself fully, although a good half hour later, there remained an obvious protrusion making itself known beneath the sheet. He cradled his diminutive wife as best he could with one hand and finally fell into a light slumber.
He knew not how long he slept, a few hours at most because the room had considerably lightened with the advent of dawn. Elizabeth lay partially curled within the crook of his arm and he slowly opened his eyes, pleased to discover that she was awake and perused his body with a frankness that thrilled him. When her eyes widened and her mouth formed a soft ‘o‘, he realized another part of his body was awakening and her attention was riveted on the gently rising sheet. Wondering what she would do, he closed his eyes and pretended to still be asleep. Now and again, he would dare crack one eye open and watch his curious wife. She shifted into a semi-sitting position and with great care, lifted the edge of the sheet. He nearly died when she peeled back the cover and with the lightest of touches, feathered a fingernaildown the length of him.
He could take no more.
