Chapter 32

They spent hours together that afternoon, lying in Darcy's secret clearing, just talking. He told her all about his university days, how he came to meet and become friends with Charlie, he talked about raising Georgiana after their father died. She told him about her sisters, about Katie's blossoming individuality and how happy it made her to see her discovering her own personality. She told him about her mother's blatant favouritism and her father's cynical sense of humour.

When he brought up his horses, she shuddered and shamefully admitted to her horse phobia, explaining the only time she'd attempted horse riding they'd gone on a trail ride and her very old and very fat mount had rolled over and died, with her still sitting on top of it. That made him laugh for a few long minutes, then he insisted she let him teach her to ride, promising her horse would not keel over and die on her.

It wasn't until the sun had begun to set that they packed up the remnants of their picnic lunch, long since finished and hiked back towards the house, arriving just as the sun sunk into the horizon. Richard was gone, so they spent a quiet evening with Georgiana. After dinner, Darcy actually brought his laptop out into the sitting room and did some work (without hiding it!) while Lizzie and Georgie sat at the piano. Georgiana, who ordinarily played very well, was obviously hindered by her broken arm and so she had decided that Lizzie had to learn to play, and that she was going to teach her. Lizzie wasn't very good, but at the very least, it was entertaining. Darcy had found himself pretty distracted and hadn't got very much work done, instead he'd spent most of the evening watching Lizzie and his sister enjoy themselves, his laptop left open beside him. It wasn't until Lizzie helped Georgiana to bed that he got anything done.

It was getting late, and Lizzie had gone upstairs to bed almost an hour ago, Darcy came up, expecting her to be fast asleep, but instead, found her nestled into his pillows, propped up on one arm reading a book. She looked up and smiled at him when he entered, then turned back to her reading. He couldn't help but smile back, and the grin didn't leave his face as he stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and changed into his pyjama pants. He crawled into the bed next to her and he was still smiling, not that she could see it, being utterly absorbed in whatever book she was reading tonight.

Her back was to him, as she was propped up on her side, the book lying open on the mattress as she held her head up with one hand. Her hair was out, and fell down across her neck, the tips of her long locks brushing the sheets, she was wearing a tank top tonight and her right shoulder was bared and he could see the faint pattern of a cluster of freckles that he hadn't noticed before. He was close to her, and without thinking about it, he was reaching up and tracing the pattern on her shoulder with his fingertips.

She shivered at his touch and glanced back over her shoulder at him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, holding her place in her book with a finger as she shifted around a little.

"Just enjoying the general splendour that is you," he said, she laughed.

"Corny," she said, he just shrugged, their eyes met and held for a long moment, his finger traced from her shoulder up her neck and came to stroke her cheek.

"Lizzie…" he whispered, she shifted the rest of the way around so that she was lying on her back, her book forgotten.

"Hi…" she whispered back. He chuckled, his thumb tracing her cheekbone again.

"Hi," he said back, there was another long pause while he stared down at her, entrancing her, holding her still with his gaze.

"You're so beautiful Elizabeth," he whispered, his gaze flicking down to her mouth quickly, and then returned to her eyes. She wet her lips unconsciously.

"You're not so bad yourself William," she said, she was teasing him.

So far they had been taking their new relationship slowly, apart from the sleeping in the same bed thing, which was admittedly a little weird considering they weren't technically a couple… he made a mental note to rectify that situation. But not now, now, he had things on his mind.

His gaze flicked down to her mouth once more, and her lips parted slightly, which he took as invitation enough. He leaned the rest of the way down and let his lips brush hers, softly at first, but as she lifted up to return the kiss, softly went out of the window, going slowly seemed like the stupidest idea in the world, and all he wanted was her. He pushed her back down into the pillows and increased the kiss, tracing her lip with his tongue, she met him move for move and soon they were pressed together, holding each other and making out like teenagers.

He was gripping her hip with one hand, the other cradling her head while his arm propped his body up, taking some of his weight off her body, but not enough that she couldn't feel every inch of him. Her arms were wrapped around him, pressing him closer as she traced up and down his bare back, feeling his lean muscles under soft skin. She was practically panting, in fact both of them were breathing rather heavily.

He broke away from her lips and trailed down her neck, licking her collarbone and tracing the top of her tank top where soft white cotton met skin. Slowly, so that she could stop him if she wasn't ready, the hand he rested on her hip bone ventured up her stomach, sliding under her top and climbing upwards. She didn't stop him and soon he was cradling her breast, caressing the soft warm skin with his fingers, his thumb skimmed across the peak and she gasped. He kissed her again deeply, and her hands slipped lower down his back, pulling him closer.

He kept the slow pace, but ventured further down this intimate path they were on, cautiously, but brimming with hope. Soon he had peeled off her tank top and thrown it on the floor and he was making his way down her body, kissing a trail down her stomach and veering towards her hipbone. Lizzie was melting under his ministrations, and she was so done with this going slow thing, all she wanted now was to get down and dirty. She'd spent enough G-rated nights in this mans bed, she was ready for this, it was time to participate. Then suddenly, he stopped. His tongue had been tracing the line of her pyjama bottoms and then suddenly it wasn't. She pulled herself up on her elbows and looked down at him. He was staring as her stomach. Or so it seemed.

"What's that matter?" She asked breathlessly.

"You…" he trailed off, looking up into her eyes then back down at her belly, "You have a tattoo!" He exclaimed finally, smirking.

"Uh, yeah I do," she blushed, "Is that all? Do you not like it?" he shook his head and smiled.

"I'm just surprised," he said, "I never would have guessed," his thumb traced the ink on her hip bone. Yes, she had a tattoo. No, not many people knew of its existence. It was concealed most of the time, which was the point of its location. It was hidden, small, and, she hoped tasteful, on the soft skin of her lower stomach, aligned with her hip, the one Darcy had been grasping all evening.

"It's cute," he said, tracing it again, "Why a bird?" he asked.

"It's a sparrow," she said, it was a small sparrow perched on a twig, "I got it when I was eighteen and starting university. I'd just moved to London and I was missing home."

He gave her a sceptical look and she laughed, "I know, I was shocked too. Anyway, growing up, there was this flowering fruit tree in our yard, right outside my bedroom window, and it was always filled with tiny little sparrows. All my life, I could always hear the sparrows singing in that tree. But in London, there were no sparrows, no fruit trees… just the city. It reminds me of where I come from, it reminds me of why I left and the things I wanted to achieve. It was my first act of freedom leaving that house…" she trailed off. He was staring up at her, listening to every word she said, his thumb had taken up a pattern on her skin.

"You don't hate it?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Definitely not," he whispered, and then kissed it softly. "You just keep surprising me Lizzie," he said then pulled her down the mattress so that he could kiss her again "Don't stop," he whispered. She kissed him back, grinning though their lips were still touching.

"I won't. I can't have you getting bored with me," she teased. He laughed heartily.

"Not even a possibility," he muttered before he trailed back down her stomach with his tongue. This time, nothing stopped him.

Making love to Darcy this time around was so different to the last time. When she hadn't even known it was him. This time it was so much more than just a physical thing. She was consciously letting herself go and giving over to Will, they were establishing themselves in a new level of their relationship. They were lovers. It was intimate, and romantic and pretty earth shattering.

It sounds cliché, but Lizzie felt warm and fuzzy all over from being with him, from feeling his tenderness, just a present as last time they'd done this, but now she knew what it meant, it was so much more touching.

Darcy was fit, in both the literal and figurative sense of the term, so Lizzie took time to savour every inch of his long, lean body, from his toned legs all the way up to his soft dark hair, which she buried her fingers in as he slid into her. Sex with Will was fulfilling in a way she'd never thought possible, and she was scared to analyse what that meant, no matter how much participation she had dedicated to their relationship. That lingering fear that everything would fall apart still hadn't gone away, but she was starting to realise that her fear came from not wanting to lose him. That was why this relationship was so important to her.

They made love for hours, not in the marathon sense that they never stopped, of course, but they couldn't stop touching each other, savouring each other, exploring each other, and so it was that they didn't end up falling asleep, holding each other, until the very early hours of the morning.

Bright sunlight, that's what woke Lizzie the next morning, she squeezed her eyes shut tighter against the brightness. Ugh Morning. It was a millisecond later that the memories of last night flooded back into her consciousness and her eyelids flew open. She was in Darcy's huge king size bed, nestled amongst the pillows and surrounded by the duvet, which was the only thing keeping her modest. Her clothes had been lost somewhere on the floor. She smiled into the pillow, and then rolled over to face Darcy's side of the bed, only to find it empty.

She reached out and his spot was cold, so he'd obviously been up for a while. She sat up clutching the duvet around her chest. She was alone. The clock on the wall read eleven thirty in the morning, and she smiled well no wonder. Darcy would have been up for hours, she knew that he wasn't capable of sleeping in. Lizzie was quite sure he hadn't heard of the concept.

She slipped out of bed and padded across to the dresser for clean clothes. She was pulling on a long sleeved t-shirt when she saw the door open in the reflection of the mirror and Darcy appeared behind her.

"Hey sleepy head," he smirked, stopping just inside the door. Lizzie turned towards him and smiled shyly, flashbacks of last night and Darcy's naked body flashing across her mind.

"Hey…" she trailed off, they stood staring at each other for a long moment before Darcy laughed and shook his head.

"I don't know why this is so awkward," he said, waving his arm towards the bed, she felt the distinct heat of a blush on her cheeks.

"It's not like we haven't done it before," she joked,

"Mmm, no, very true," he laughed, then crossed the room to stand in front of her, "And hopefully we'll do it again?" he asked, his voice was nervous and hopeful.

"I think that could be arranged," she giggled, and smiled as he leaned down to kiss her, wrapping his arms around her waist he pulled her against his chest, and nestled into her hair.

"Your sister is here," he said, his voice rumbling through his chest.

"Already?" she asked, pulling back to look into his eyes.

"So it would seem," he nodded once, confirmation

"They must have left super early," Lizzie sighed, pulling out of his arms and reaching for her hairbrush, she started to tame her bed hair.

"You do realise that it's practically lunch time," he teased, strolling over to the bed, he sat at the end and watched her in the mirror as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Shush you, I just can't believe they're here already. That means we're going home soon…" she sighed, finishing with her brush, she pulled her hair up and snapped a band around a high pony tail, turning to face him again. He smiled at her, and stood up, reaching out a hand for her to take.

"Back to reality," He sighed,

"Come on, I'm making my famous chili for lunch, everyone's downstairs in the kitchen waiting."

"Mmm, that sounds good," she said, feeling a rumble in her empty stomach. It was loud enough for him to hear too, and it made him laugh.

"Hey," she said, after a moment of silent walking, causing him to look at her, "One of these days, am I ever going to wake up and find you still in bed with me?" she asked, he smiled and reached up to smooth the crinkle out from between her brows.

"Tomorrow," he answered, still smiling, "Nothing would give me greater pleasure,"

She giggled as they arrived outside the kitchen.

"Nothing?" she asked, a coy smile on her face and a brow raised, he knew exactly what she was implying.

"Shut up," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her lips as they swung through the kitchen door. The kiss, as chaste as it was, did not go unnoticed by the other occupants of the kitchen, and they both blushed slightly when they broke away and looked up to find four curious pairs of eyes on them.

"Lizzie!" Jane cried breaking the moment of embarrassment as she practically flew across the kitchen and into Lizzie's arms. She hugged her sister back and grinned.

"Hey Jane,"

"Things are good, I take it?" Jane whispered in her ear, before pulling back to look into her younger sisters eyes.

"Things are great," Lizzie confirmed, glancing over to where Will was, across the kitchen, standing at the stove with Ms. Reynolds. Jane didn't have to ask any more questions, and even if she'd wanted to, the opportunity was lost when Charles made his way over to give Lizzie a hug of his own.

"The office has been very dull without you Elizabeth," he sighed, "And Darce has been thoroughly preoccupied. I hope you'll be coming back soon,"

Lizzie smiled, she had missed Charlie while she'd been playing nurse (and playing house) with the Darcy's.

"That all depends on Georgie," Lizzie said, "But I think she's mending tremendously, aren't you Georgie?" she asked, pulling the younger girl into the conversation, as she was sitting not three feet away.

"I'm feeling much better," she confirmed, as Lizzie took a seat with her at the worn kitchen table. Jane and Charlie sat opposite her, leaving the chair next to Lizzie and the other head of the table empty.

"Lunch is served!" Will exclaimed, placing a large pot in the middle of them, he quickly claimed the seat beside Lizzie as Ms. Reynolds passed around bowls and spoons.

"Hey," Will whispered, a little smile on his face, as he grasped Lizzie's hand beneath the tabletop.

"Hey," she smiled back, letting their joint hands rest on her lap. A bowl clattered on the table in front of her, drawing her attention away from Will.

"Wait until you try this," he said, letting go of his hand as he filled first her bowl, and then his own, before sitting back down and reclaiming her hand, "When I was about fifteen, we had a chef from Mexico, she taught me how to make this,"

"I think your recipe ended up surpassing Lolita's to be honest William," Ms. Reynolds said, from her place at the table head, what usually would have been Will's seat, that knowledge, and the fact he'd chosen the seat beside her, gave Elizabeth a warm feeling in her stomach, but it was nothing compared to the warmth the chili gave out after she took her first bite.

"Wow," was all she could say, through the spicy bite of the meal.

"Good?" Will asked, as his thumb started tracing a gentle circle on the top of her hand.

"Very," she smiled back, her answer loaded with more meaning than the question had implied.

The six of them spent the next hour enjoying each other's company, and enjoying several serves of Will's Famous Chili con Carne, with freshly baked cornbread, baked by Ms. Reynolds, because Will claimed he wasn't that talented.

"I'm sure you could make great cornbread if you tried," Lizzie had joked,

"Well, that only makes me want to try," he'd responded.

The other's weren't ignorant to the fact that both Will and Lizzie ate the entire meal one handed, but being the good friends that they were, chose not to bring it up.