Now, he was denied even that. She had sat next to him the day before and laid her head on his shoulder while she slept, which had been sweet torture to him. He had stroked her hair and stolen a few kisses, but nothing more. This was to be their last day in such close confines where he was able only to look and barely touch. The distractions of the next few days seeing the sights should help occupy his mind, and he imagined there would be plenty of places to steal a kiss or two and hopefully more. The first night of the journey, they had both been exhausted and knew they had an early morning, so he had kissed her goodnight and left it at that. The second night, he had hoped for a little affection before retiring, but she had practically fallen asleep at the table and he could not bring himself to demand anything of her when she clearly needed to rest.

Now, he was beginning to think his notions about showing affection in a carriage were a bit silly. So what if it wasn’t entirely proper? He was quite sure people did all sorts of improper things all the time. He’d been very improper prior to their wedding. But since they had wed and he had full access to her person each night, it seemed greedy somehow, selfish, to demand affection from her every hour of the day, and there was something in Elizabeth’s demeanor, some intuition that made him stop, but he tried not to think about that. Perhaps he was overly concerned and she wouldn’t be as scandalized as he had feared. This was Elizabeth after all.

The ride started easily enough. They discussed the books they had been reading and whether the night had been comfortable at the last inn. At the first stop to change horses, Elizabeth refreshed herself—not an easy thing to do in a busy inn—and stretched her legs, walking slowly around a small herb garden behind the main building. She mindlessly watched a maid gathering vegetables into a basket while she rubbed her lower back slowly, trying to ease the tension. Traveling was rigorous enough on the body without the added trouble of courses.

Darcy asked if she wanted tea and she said no; the sooner they reached their destination the sooner she could get a hot brick and lie down. She had hoped they would be at the cottage before this started, but clearly it was not to be.

“Are you ready to depart? The carriage is awaiting us,” came Darcy’s voice from behind her.

She sighed and removed her hands from her back, lifting her face to catch a few rays of the sun before returning to the covered carriage.

“Yes, I am ready.”