Page 80 of Attempted Compromises
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed, but she felt a flicker of courage spark within her. “And you, Fitzwilliam, are very kind.”
He smiled faintly, his eyes never leaving hers. Then, with deliberate care, he extinguished the lamp, plunging the room into soft shadows. Their conversation faded as tenderness took over, the night unfolding not in haste but in mutual trust and quiet discovery. Darcy’s voice was the last sound she heard before everything else faded away.
“You are safe with me, Elizabeth. Always.”
∞∞∞
The room was quiet save for the soft crackle of the fire and the gentle rhythm of Elizabeth’s breathing. Darcy lay on his side beside Elizabeth, his head propped up on one hand, his gaze fixed on her as he watched her sleep. The blankets rose and fell with the cadence of her breath, her chestnut curls spilling across the pillow like a halo. She looked serene, the faintest hint of a smile gracing her lips, and he marveled at how truly beautiful she was.
Beautiful. The word barely seemed adequate, but it was far superior to calling her tolerable all those weeks ago.You were such a fool.
He had always thought her fine eyes were her most striking feature, but now, with the golden glow of the firelight dancing over her features, he realized there was so much more. The delicate curve of her jaw, the slight upturn of her nose, the way her brows relaxed in sleep—all of it captivated him. He had seen beauty in portraits and admired it in passing acquaintances, but this was something altogether different. This was intimate, vulnerable, and achingly real.
And she was his wife.
The thought sent a rush of emotions through him—wonder, disbelief, and something perilously close to joy. How had they come to this? Only weeks ago, he had resigned himself to a life of solitude, haunted by his past and his duty to Andrew. Yet now, here he was, sharing a bed with the woman who had challenged him, humbled him, and, unwittingly, claimed his heart.
The night had been… beautiful.For you, that is. But what about forher? A flicker of doubt crept into his mind. Did she feel the same? She had been surprisingly enthusiastic, once she’d gotten over her nervousness. He had done everything in his power to be gentle, to ensure her comfort, but he couldn’t help wondering if she had truly wanted it—or if she had simply felt obligated. The hesitation he had seen in her eyes at the church nagged at his mind, and he felt a pang of guilt.
Is this enough for her? AmIenough for her?
He rolled over onto his back, careful not to disturb her, and studied the canopy. The memory of the evening played over in his mind, vivid and yet intangible, like a dream he wasn’t sure he fully understood.
Was she content? Had he done enough to ease her fears? He had seen the courage in her eyes, the determination that had carried her through a day fraught with emotion, but he had also sensed her hesitation, her uncertainty. It had been beautiful—more than he dared hope for—but he couldn’t shake the worry that she had accepted him out of duty rather than desire.
What if she regrets this?The question gnawed at him, a dark thread woven into the tapestry of his thoughts. He wanted to believe that the tenderness they had shared had meant something to her, as it had to him, but he feared asking her outright. For now, he could only hope that her gentle smile as she drifted to sleep was a sign of happiness, not resignation.
The fire crackled softly, casting shifting shadows across the room. Darcy’s hand lightly brushed against hers where it rested on the blanket. The urge to take it, to hold it in his own, was almost overwhelming. For all the years he had spent keeping others at a distance, there was a closeness here, a warmth he had never felt—not with Anne, and certainly not with the fleeting companionships he’d sought in his youth.
No, this was different. This wasreal.
He debated whether he should return to his own room. It would be the proper thing to do, he reasoned. To give her space, to allow her the privacy she might need after such an intimateevening. Yet the thought of leaving her side filled him with an inexplicable sense of loss. This small, quiet moment—the warmth of her presence, the steady cadence of her breath—was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He wasn’t ready to let it go.
Darcy relaxed against the soft mattress. The tension that had gripped him earlier began to ebb away, replaced by a quiet contentment. The room felt warmer now, not just from the fire but from the knowledge that she was here, beside him, bound to him in a way that was both daunting and exhilarating.
The steady rhythm of her breathing soothed him, each exhale a gentle reminder that she was truly in bed, truly his. The worries and uncertainties that had plagued him the last several days began to fade, and his eyes grew heavy.
As his eyes grew heavy, Darcy allowed himself one last glance at Elizabeth. He reached out, his hand brushing hers lightly beneath the covers. Her fingers curled slightly in response, even in sleep, and a small smile touched his lips.
“I’ll do my best,” he murmured, his voice barely audible in the stillness. “For you.”
For the first time in what felt like years, Darcy drifted into sleep with a sense of hope.
∞∞∞
The first pale light of dawn seeped softly through the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow. Elizabeth stirred, a small smile gracing her lips as she slowly came to consciousness. The warmth of the bed, the faint scent of lavender lingering on the sheets, and the soothing crackle of the dying fire—all combined to make her feel uncharacteristically cozy, reluctant to leave the safety of her blankets.
She shifted slightly, stretching her limbs beneath the covers, when movement beside her caught her attention. Elizabeth turned over, expecting to see one of her younger sisters who might have climbed into her bed for warmth as they often had when they were children. But instead of a familiar girlish figure, her gaze landed on broad shoulders and dark, slightly mussed hair.
Darcy.
She blinked, taking in the sight of him still asleep beside her, his features softened in slumber. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his mouth curled up slightly in his sleep. He lay on his back, one arm resting lightly across his chest, his breathing steady and calm. Elizabeth’s heart gave an involuntary flutter, and then… a jolt.
The memories of the previous night crashed into her, vivid and startling. Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled the wayhe had looked at her, touched her, and spoken to her; an impossible combination of intensity and tenderness. Her body shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the recollection, a slight soreness reminding her of the undeniable reality of what had transpired.
Oh, my goodness. We… I…
