Page 32 of Desired By Mr Darcy
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, their eyes meeting at last. “Shall we continue on?”
The afternoon passed without consequence; Elizabeth seemed to be herself again, and by the time they returned to the house, Darcy’s own temper had improved considerably. Dinner passed most pleasantly, and he bid Elizabeth goodnight along with the rest of the party.
Fitzwilliam retired early too; he had fallen out of his army routine, he had said, and wished to regain the rhythm he had become accustomed to. So, Darcy roamed the house alone.
Sleep had never come easily to him. He supposed, at one time, it must have done; when his parents were alive and there was no burden of responsibility on his young shoulders. Then everything changed, and he had barely had a night’s uninterrupted sleep since Georgiana’s birth.
He settled in the library, listening as the footsteps from the room above him quietened and the house fell into wonderful silence. The fire crackled softly in the grate, and he sat back in his favourite chair, the smell of leather and books filling him. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. This was his very favourite place in the world, though he supposed it shared its position with the library at Pemberley. There was an air of serenity that a library possessed, as though the silence were sacred.
He did not take a book from the shelves, instead slipping a book from his own pocket.
He ought to have destroyed it by now, but he could not help but read it over and over in his attempt to familiarise himself with the female body. He had read it the previous night, once again succumbing to his own cursed desires as he and Elizabeth replaced the figures in the book in his mind. He would not dosuch a thing tonight; tonight, he would view the book from an entirely scientific angle.
He thumbed through the book, carefully reading the passages (for, despite Fitzwilliam’s description of the book, there were in fact words that Darcy found to be quite educational) and making note of what might be acceptable within a marriage bed.
He was lost in his own thoughts as the clock on the mantle struck one.
Darcy stirred slightly in his chair, blinking against the flickering firelight. The clock’s chime echoed softly in the stillness of the room, a gentle reminder of the lateness of the hour. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, debating whether he should retire to his chambers or linger a little longer in this rare peace.
The faintest creak of the door interrupted his musings. His head turned sharply toward the sound, his breath catching.
Standing in the doorway, wrapped in a dark shawl, was Elizabeth. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw him, as though she had not expected to find anyone there, but she quickly composed herself.
“Elizabeth!” Darcy said, rising to his feet. His voice was soft, careful not to disturb the quiet of the house. “Is everything all right?”
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, clutching the edges of her shawl tighter around her shoulders.
“I... I could not sleep,” she admitted, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “I thought perhaps a book might help. I did not know that you would be here.”
“I find this room to be very peaceful at night. I often find myself in a library, wherever I am.”
“I shall know where to find you when I have need of you at Pemberley, then.”
Elizabeth moved toward the nearest shelf, her steps light against the rug. The fire cast a warm glow on her features, and Darcy found himself watching her with an intensity he could not suppress. There was a vulnerability in her expression that made his chest tighten, as though she carried the weight of some unspoken thought.
“What sort of book do you seek?” he asked, trying to keep his tone steady and hide his erection.
“Something complicated,” she replied, running her fingers lightly over the spines of the books. “Though I fear my mind may resist all attempts to be quieted tonight.”
“Perhaps I could recommend something?” Darcy offered, stepping closer.
“I would be pleased if you made sure it was a very boring book. A list of facts and figures that I cannot understand would be most welcome.”
“Why?”
“If a book is too absorbing, then I have no hope of sleep. I shall read until it is finished. If I do not read at all, then I shall do nothing but think.”
“I, too, have been preoccupied by my thoughts.”
“And what are you thinking of tonight, Mr Darcy?” she asked, her voice soft but probing.
Darcy hesitated, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting hers again.
“I was thinking of you,” he admitted, the words escaping before he could stop them.
Elizabeth’s breath hitched, her cheeks flushing in the firelight. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them heavy with unspoken emotions.
“I fear I was not myself this morning,” she said finally, her voice trembling slightly. “I... I owe you an apology.”
