Sorry this is slow! Enjoy!
Chapter 10
Darcy rose, wanting his wife. The room and his own skin had sharpened to the odd focus of dreams as he placed his feet on the floor and toed around for his slippers. He would find her. He stood, and within moments he was at the door to his room. Turning the knob, it swung open.
Definitely a dream, and his fear eased as he stepped into the hall. Elizabeth rooms were to his left.
In the way of dreams, moonlight shone into the hallway, though the previous evening, the moon had only been a quarter full. Three steps down the hall, and Elizabeth was there in only her nightrail...
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Darcy reached for her, and Elizabeth stepped into his arms, all soft curves and the scent of desire. He touched her without restraint...
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"Fitzwilliam," she breath, the tickle of her breath hot against his jaw. "Let us go to bed."
"No," Darcy insisted.
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Was he dreaming?
"Fitz?" Elizabeth asked, her voice hesitant. She ran fingers over his temple, pushing back sweat damp tufts of hair.
Darcy breathed out.
Elizabeth said, "It is just a dream. Come, let us return to your bed."
Just a dream, she said. But as she rearranged his long drawers and slipped her arm around his waist, he opened his eyes and saw the dim outline of the hallway, no moonlight, just a candle left in its stand three feet from where she held him.
Darcy had to have been asleep. But this was too vivid and too mundane for a dream. He was chilly, sticky, and he stumbled, walking in the semi-darkness. He could not be dreaming.
But Darcy had checked the bolt on his door. They had locked it. How had he gotten out of his rooms?
Had someone unlocked it?
Had his wife?
Darcy let Elizabeth lead him to his room. She told him to sit, and he did. Gently, she pulled his slippers off and pushed him back on his pillow. She kissed him, on the forehead and lips.
Then she placed the duvet to his chest, blew out the candle, and left.
As Darcy lay in the darkness, he heard the scratch and click of the bolt, sliding and falling into place.
Elizabeth had unlocked it. The minx!
Darcy would have been furious if he was not so delighted. Elizabeth wanted him. His dream wife was his wife in truth.
Why had not she told him? If she had but shared her desires, he would have come to her bed and stayed. But perhaps she too had been afraid? Her interest not the hesitant reaction of a woman as virtuous as the guides suggested he expect of a wife.
Thank heaven.
As Darcy's eyes fell shut, he planned. The next time he enjoyed his wife's full attentions, it would, no longer, be a dream.
Thank you for reading!
If you want to read the redacted parts, just check it out on my website VioletKingAuthor DOT com. I'm also working on a sweet romance which I'll start posting soon! And another steamy is in the wings.
Best,
V