Darcy was a nervous wreck. He and Elizabeth had had hardly any time to talk. First they’d been at the church, then the carriage was quick and silent, then the breakfast was bustling with family and friends, all who wanted to congratulate him and meet his new wife. They had barely spoken two words to each other! He’d hoped there would be time to speak about their quarrel the night before, but there wasn’t. She had seemed reluctant to leave her family and he couldn’t blame her. The family would be returning to the seaside soon and a few days later they would be off to The Lakes. It would be months before she saw them again and she was facing a great many changes in the interim.

He thought she had seemed happier lately, well, except for last night, but otherwise, she had seemed quite happy to be in his company and enjoyed his kisses. He could hardly wait to make her his. His hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides and he ran his fingers through his hair as he paced his room.

He’d never been with a maiden before. He didn’t want to frighten her and he knew he must be gentle, but he was so overwhelmed with every conceivable feeling that he was afraid he would lose control of himself and hurt her. What if it was so bad she didn’t want to do it again? What if she cried?

“Pull yourself together, man! Just be calm, be patient, be kind and gentle with her. The rest will come,” he recited the advice his uncle had given him a few days prior in what had to have been the most awkward conversation they’d ever had. But despite its having been incredibly uncomfortable to speak of such things, he was glad for it. His uncle had given him good advice and he meant to heed it. “I will not rush. I will not demand. I will entice. I will lead her, surely and steadfastly, and all will be well.”

He quit talking to himself and walked through the door to the sitting room and onward to the door to her chamber. Taking a fortifying breath, he reached up and knocked.

“Come in,” he heard her say quietly.

Chapter 22

Elizabeth stood between the vanity and the bed, as if she had been walking between the two and somehow froze on the way. She wore a silky robe that came to her ankles under which he was sure was an enticing nightgown. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and the lack of petticoats was obvious in the way the gown clung to her figure. Her eyes were wide and watched him warily, and her hair hung in long curls down her back.