He stopped himself from making a joke about the delicate position he’d rather have her in and sat on the settee, pulling her down beside him.

“Now, tell me about these questions you have,” he said.

“I couldn’t possibly! It’s unseemly!” she cried.

He raised a brow. “More unseemly than me being in your private chambers in our nightclothes?” The line between her eyes appeared as she frowned. “Elizabeth, our roles have changed now. I would like us to be free with each other—especially here. To speak, to act, to share whatever we like. These are our private rooms. You have my word that nothing you say to me here will go beyond these walls.”

“And you will not mock me?” she asked suspiciously.

“I will not mock you. I promise.” He suppressed his grin at the adorable look of resolve on her face. “Now, what is your first question?”

Taking a deep breath, she decided to forge ahead. “How long does it take?”

Darcy flushed and spluttered before saying, “It depends. Sometimes it may be rather quick. No more than a few minutes. Other times, the act could stretch into hours.”

“Hours!”

“Well, including all the activities, not just the portion where—it can be different each time.”

She nodded. “Will it always be here? Do you expect me to come to your room sometimes?”

His eyes took on an interested glow. “Whatever you like, my dear. I am perfectly amenable to you coming to my rooms whenever you like.”

“And do you want to… sleep with me… after?” she asked quietly.

He pulled her closer to his side and she snuggled into him, seeking solace in a form of affection she was familiar with. And from this angle, he couldn’t see her face or how often she blushed during this very awkward conversation. She hated how he made her anxious and yet she wanted to be close to him at the same time. Were all men so maddening?

“I believe in the beginning, it would be nice to sleep together. I cannot bear the idea of ever leaving this room, now that I have seen you in such a state.” He touched her hair and ran a hand down the length of her arm while she blushed. “In the future, we may want to sleep separately. I think we can decide as we go. I will certainly not impose my company on you if you’d rather be alone. I hope you know that.”

“Of course. I would never think it of you,” she said quietly.

“Good.”

“I heard,” she hesitated and fiddled with the lapel on his dressing gown, “I was told that perhaps it happens more than once in a night, especially in the beginning, and that might be why you would wish to sleep with me. Is that true? Can it occur more than once in a night?”