He shook his head, willed the unpleasant memory aside, and concentrated on his letter, unaware when Lizzy exited to the next-door nursery to place Michael into his cradle.

Lizzy brushed over the wispy hair on Michael’s head and tucked the blanket tightly around his plump body. She knew she would tell Darcy about Wickham, just not tonight. It was not cowardice—well, not completely—but rather because she wanted and needed this time to focus solely on her husband.

Lizzy was indeed fully conscious of her actions while nursing Michael. Last night’s lovemaking was wonderful as always, but somewhat perfunctory after days of forced abstinence due to preparations for their departure from Pemberley and residing at an inn while traveling. Tonight’s seduction was designed to evoke a response!

The memories surrounding Netherfield were numerous, as she had said upon their arrival earlier yesterday. They dated to the beginning of their relationship and involved dozens of strange and incredible moments. She paused in her caress over Michael’s skin, smiling as she recalled one particularly erotic encounter that sparked her plans for tonight. She crossed to their chambers, halting only for a last minute pinch to her cheeks, to fluff her flowing waist-length hair, and to loosen the ties to her gossamer robe.

“Are you almost finished with your letter?”

Darcy jumped, not hearing her sneak behind him, and grasped the hand running inside the opening in his shirt. “Nearly. Give me a few minutes, please.”

“Hmmm… In a few minutes I may be asleep. Then what would you do, Mr. Darcy?”

“Wake you.”

“How ungentlemanly! I am appalled.” She escaped his grasp, resuming her exploration of his chest, and poked the tip of her tongue into his ear.

Darcy groaned, grabbed the searching hand tighter, and bent his head away from her lips. “Patently unfair! Seriously, love, please give me a few minutes. I really want to send this at first light.”

“You do worry too much, dearest. Georgie will be here. She has probably decided to surprise you.” She stood, running her fingers through his hair and massaging his temples. “Richard will play the wounded soldier for you having so little faith in his capacity as protector, and the rest of us will have to endure his dramatics. Have you no mercy?”

He laughed, clasping one hand and kissing her palm. “I am certain Richard will have far too many delightful stories to tell for overt dramatics. Now, leave me be for a bit and I promise I shall make it up to you.”

“Very well.” She kissed the top of his head. “I shall be in there, alone, trying to stay awake.” She glided toward the bedchamber doorway, diaphanous robe billowing, and paused halfway to glance seductively over her shoulder. Darcy watched her, pen poised over the parchment. She held his gaze and proceeded to peel the robe off her shoulders, revealing one of Madame du Loire’s skimpy concoctions.

“Ah, Lizzy! You vixen!”

She laughed and sauntered into the bedroom with a toss of her hair.

Less than fifteen minutes later he was there, warm hands stroking over her arms and moist lips nuzzling the bend of her neck. She stood by the window, gazing at the familiar landscape bathed in faint moonlight.

“You are still awake.”

“Waiting for my obsessive husband.”

He chuckled, arms clasping hers around her slender waist and drawing fast onto the solid surface of his body. “Yes, indeed I am obsessive. Obsessively in love with and desirous of you. I abhor traveling if for no other reason than it is difficult to relax with you in an inn with our sons upset.”

“Oh, you seemed comfortable enough with Michael asleep on your chest and Alexander curled between us.”

“As much as I adore our babies I concede I would rather you be on my chest.” He ran two fingers under her strap, knuckles grazing over a fragile collarbone and then down to a swelling breast.

Lizzy melted further onto his body. “I do believe, husband mine, that it was on my agenda to seduce you tonight.”

“Hmmm… Is that so?” His mouth was now at the nape of her neck, the other hand stroking over a thigh. “How did you intend to go about your seduction? It really does not take all that much, you know.”

“This is true, but I have discovered that driving you a wee bit insane does heighten the experience.”

“I cannot argue that fact. Merely picturing you in this slip of satin”—his fingertips smoothed over the fabric covering her belly—“has kept me pleasantly distracted while attempting to compose a brotherly correspondence.”

She sighed, loudly and theatrically. “Unfortunately, I have had to wait for so long that I think I am no longer in the mood.” She twisted from his embrace and strolled with a sway of her hips to the middle of the room.

Darcy grinned, leaning against the wall with arms and feet crossed in a picture of blasé attitude. “What a pity. Is there anything I can do to restore your interest?”

She tapped a finger against her lower lip as she studied him contemplatively. Then she shrugged, arms waving as if bored by the question although she managed to sweep through her hair and push her chest out. “Oh bother! I suppose you could remove your shirt. That may spark my enthusiasm. If you do it properly.”

He lifted a brow. “Are there varying methods to removing a shirt?”

“Oh, indeed, yes! I daresay if one performs adequately it can be quite stimulating. Have you not discovered this to be true, lover?”

She leered—there was no other way to put it—and Darcy flushed. The truth is that even after three years of marriage and numerous seductive stripping dances on her part, always observed with tremendous enthusiasm, he still did not grasp that she experienced the same titillation from observing him disrobing. He had lost track of the number of times she joined him in his dressing room with that singular expression indicating passionate arousal. Samuel still blanched and scurried from the room. And how often she had lingered over each button and tie, unveiling him as she kissed and caressed until she was wild with need.

That she esteemed his figure was obvious, and highly appreciated, but his humble nature shied from taking it to the next level. As she grew bolder in her attire and the flirtatious exposing of her flesh to his eyes, he quailed at the idea of such exhibitionism. However, the brightness in her eyes and lascivious smirk were encouraging, so he decided to do his best to please her.

He started with the buttons, the top two already undone, feeling utterly ridiculous as she avidly watched.

“Now, slowly pull the ends from your waistband.”

His eyes widened in surprise at her command, realizing that she intended to talk him through it! He blushed deeper, but also felt a scorching surge of lust, especially as her gaze was no longer on his face, but clearly inventorying his person with rising ardor.

“Take it off, Fitzwilliam, unhastily, while turning in a circle.”

His face was scarlet but only partially from embarrassment. Heat was flowing through him, her vibrant voice and covetous stare enlivening.

“Hmmm… I love the way your muscles flex as you move,” she whispered with a reflexive moan.

She kept up the train of admiration and instruction, the removal of breeches never taking so long in his life. It was awkward, and he felt a bit the fool, but it was obvious by her deepened voice, panting breaths, and visible shivers that she was profusely pleased by his performance. By the time every bit of clothing was removed, he too was intensely aroused, much to his surprise.

Then she floated toward him, hands lifting to airily brush over the hairs on his chest, and he thought he would burst into flames. She touched him everywhere, murmuring appreciatively over each feature, finally leaning into his back. With lips pressed between his shoulder blades, the level most comfortable for her to reach, and hands stroking intimately, she asked, “Are you adequately seduced, my love?”

He growled in response and stilled her stimulating hands. “Are you adequately in the mood, sweet love?”

“Come to bed and we shall see.”

Quite some time later, the bed tousled and their bodies entangled and lying diagonally, Lizzy rose on one elbow to gaze at her gasping spouse. She kissed his chin, fingertips dipping into his navel. “You performed stupendously, my love.”

“Yes,” he agreed with a smug leer, “I sense you are pleased.”

Lizzy rubbed over the fingertip-sized pressure marks across his posterior shoulder blades. “Indeed I am satisfied, but I was not primarily referring to your prowess and ability to send me to the moon. I was talking about your impressive disrobing. I was not sure if you were up to the task. But considering the last time we were here and my excellent lesson in the art of seductive undressing, I trusted you had learned capably.”

“Ah! Indeed I remember quite vividly. So that was your impetus, was it?”

“I was praying for an adequate, perhaps somewhat neophytic, performance, but you wildly exceeded my expectations.”

Darcy grinned, snatching her teasing hand and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. He drew her body closer, encircling her with both arms and delivering a long, lazy kiss.

“Mmmm… I forgot to ask if you remembered to lock the door.”

He nodded as he swept the snarled hair from her face. “That lesson has been indelibly etched into my brain! Yes, the door is locked. But now that you have touched upon the subject, I am going to ease my mind of their welfare ere I fall asleep in your arms. I shall return momentarily.” And after another kiss, he left.