Page 149 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
BALANCING THE SCALES
I woketo the singing of thrushes. The linen roof glowed honey-yellow under fingers of morning sun.
The village outside was still. It had been a late night for the revelers.
It was a late night for us as well. The red cord that had tied our wrists lay in a corner, tangled with our clothes. We had worn the cord a long time, dragging it around like a clothesline hung with his coat and shirt and my dress and petticoats. Whathadwe been thinking?
“I am married,” I said to myself wonderingly.
Mr. Darcy stirred. His hand slid over my shoulder blade and down my spine until it rested low on my waist. I felt myself warming below his fingers in a remarkable manner.
I nuzzled his shoulder. “What shall I call you? I can hardly refer to you as Mr. Darcy.”
“I should like to call you Elizabeth.”
I smiled. “Did you not name your ship ‘Lizzy’?”
His shoulder shook with a chuckle. “That was in the heat of the moment.”
“I approve of heated moments.” I traced my fingers across his skin, hair tickling under my fingertips. I had never touched a man’s bare chest before last night. His upper ribs were wrapped in thick muscle that rolled into impressive shoulders, a little more solid on his right side. All those fencing bouts.
“What are you pondering so seriously?” he asked.
Guiltily, I dragged my gaze up to his dark brown eyes. “I am meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine shoulders can bestow.” He chuckled again. But in fact, I was wondering about something. “Had you done that before? What we did last night?” I felt biting jealousy at the thought, but it was rumored that gentlemen had such experiences.
“No.”
I pushed up on my elbows to see him better. “Then how did you have all those ideas?”
An endearing pink flush climbed his neck. “There are books in the Pemberley library. Documenting the duties of a husband to ensure that his wyfe binds.”
“The famous books! Mr. Bingley said you gave him one.”
“Lenthim one, yes.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I kept the best ones.”
“And what makes one better than the others?”
“Some have illustrations.”
I laughed and curled against his side again. “Well, I can attest they are effective. Although we shall never really know.”
Because we had not bound. The finality of that was a little strange. I had no regrets, but it would be challenging to explain to Mamma. Fortunately, Jane’s wedding had been very traditional.
WhatwouldI call Mr. Darcy? I could not imagine Fitz. But Fitzwilliam was a huge mouthful. Rather like some of those ideas in the dark. I chuckled, shocked at how wicked I was being.
My unnamed husband sat up and began untangling our clothes.
“You cannot be thinking of leaving,” I said in a warning tone.
“Only for a minute. I wish to confirm that sentries are set. We are in the middle of a war.”
I caught his arm. “A minute is too long.”
“Half a minute. Wait for me.” He kissed me hard, a hand on each side of my face. I was rather gasping when he finished, and I watched him pull on trousers and a shirt in a dazed state. He kissed me again, then pushed out through the white cloth flaps of our door.
I curled under the quilt to find the warmth of his body, then buried my nose for a hint of musk and maleness.
I wokewith a start in the cold bed. The sun had moved. At least an hour had passed. Outside, I heard the relaxed chatter of people at breakfast.
