The Unforgettable Mr. Darcy

***

William was exceedingly talented at making things happen. When he decided something would be so, everyone hurried to accomplish the task. Within half an hour, Elizabeth was seated in a wrought iron chair and viewing the Martins’ small garden. Carefully manicured in the French tradition, the garden was a profusion of roses, peonies, delphiniums, and lupines—all arranged in orderly beds. A few fruit trees and larger pines edged the perimeter, and the whole was surrounded by tall, red brick walls to provide privacy.

The trip down the stairs and through the kitchen to the garden had been slow but uneventful. Her legs had threatened to buckle once, but William had braced her arm and prevented a fall. It was so pleasant to feel the sun warm her skin that Elizabeth would not for the world admit to experiencing moments of lightheadedness.

In the chair beside hers, William watched her like a mother bird who feared her fledgling would fall from the nest. “Would you like your bonnet? Or perhaps your shawl?” He leaned closer to her.

Elizabeth flicked open her fan and fanned herself briskly; they enjoyed the shade of a cherry tree, but it did not shield them from all the sun’s rays. “I am not at all chilled, I assure you.”

“Do you require a glass of water? Or lemonade? Perhaps we should return inside.”

“I am enjoying the fresh air.”

“Very well.”

Elizabeth reached out to pat his hand where it rested on the arm of his chair. “I am not so fragile as all that,” she assured him. “I feel quite myself today. Well, I assume this is how I must feel—at least some of the time.”

His lips twisted into a rueful smile. “Have you recalled anything?”

“I sometimes remember things, but they are only disconnected images. They amount to nothing coherent.”

He drew her hand into his. “I would imagine you will remember everything when we return to England. Familiar surroundings will help provoke your memories.”

Unable to bear the hopefulness in his expression, Elizabeth turned her eyes to the neat rows of rose bushes. What would she do if she never remembered? Having had the good fortune to secure the affections of such a man, how could her mind have erased him from her recollections?

Elizabeth had been cheated; something precious had been stolen from her. “I have forgotten everything of importance. Your offer of marriage…our first kiss…” Tears leaked from her eyes.

William’s eyes were fixed on the ground; a slight blush tinged his cheeks. Did the mere mention of kissing discompose him? “We will make new memories,” he said.

Hmph. Such sentiments were very well and good, but Elizabeth was growing impatient. “When?”

“Hmm?” He gave her a sidelong glance.

His lips were pale red—the ideal shape. How would they feel pressed to hers? It was especially unfair that she did not recall kissing when it seemed like quite a pleasurable activity. “When shall we make new memories?”

He swallowed. “You would like to do so now?” Why did he appear so nervous? He was the one who remembered their previous kisses.

“Since”—she cleared her throat— “Since I awakened, you have not kissed me.” Of their own accord, her eyes again drifted down to fix on his lips.

He made a noise that sounded like a gasp. She had not thought her request so shocking. Was she too forward? “Elizabeth, I am a stranger to you.” His entire body seemed to be leaning away from hers.

A pang of disappointment took her off guard. “But I am not a stranger to you,” she retorted. “This should be simple for you.”

His shoulders tightened as he

hunched forward in his chair. “I would not make you uncomfortable.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “A kiss might help to stimulate my memories.”

Still, he hesitated.

“Is kissing me such a chore?” She smiled, trying to hide her apprehension. Perhaps he no longer desires me.

His eyes rose to meet hers, and there was no disguising the desire in them. Thank God. “No, quite the opposite.”

In the next instant, his lips were upon hers, as soft and warm as she had envisioned. He kissed her with such passion it stole her breath away.

Her own reaction took her by surprise. Her entire body leaned into the kiss, wanting more—more sensation, more closeness, more tastes of William upon her lips. Her eager response encouraged him to deepen the kiss, exploring her lips with his questing tongue. She shivered at the unexpected pleasure.