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On those occasions when Elizabeth Darcy observed her husband move about a room in company, she wondered if he had any comprehension of the extent to which he towered over others. Sometimes, he could look quite ridiculous—especially when displeased. Elizabeth could not easily forget the way Darcy had stalked around assembly rooms and ball-rooms in Hertfordshire with a scowl on his face; desperate to not be perceived by a single other soul, but cursed with the unhappy burden of his height, which made such a wish quite hopeless indeed. In any room he entered, every eye would immediately affix to a man of such stature. Should the occupants wish to engage him, Darcy’s impossibly tall frame caused any hope of sensible conversation with him in a crowded ball-room to be a difficult prospect, and his inherent obstinacy and noble way of holding himself made him unlikely to lean down so that he could better hear his conversation partner.
Darcy’s impressive height was one of the first features of his that his future wife had noticed. It had been impossible not to, given the way he loomed large over everyone he encountered. Long before she had ever allowed him to be handsome, she had granted herself permission to, at the very least, admire his tallness. Her husband was a captivating specimen indeed, especially when he strode towards her with purposeful strides that showed off his long legs, as he had often done in Kent during their walks.
Indeed, it was such an impressive stature possessed by Mr Darcy that his wife envied at this precise moment. For Elizabeth was keen to continue reading the gothic romance novel she had devoured the first two volumes of. Alas, it appeared that Darcy had a tendency to organise his library in a most frustrating manner and had placed the subsequent volumes of The Mysteries of Udolpho away from the others—on the very top shelf! As height had not been bestowed upon the Bennet sisters by their maker, unfortunately the volume was far too high for her to reach.
Elizabeth glanced around the library in hopes of discovering a solution. Apart from a heavy armchair that she knew she could not herself lift, it appeared to be quite the hopeless case. That was, until she noticed a footstool. It was slight enough for her to lift and place before the shelves, but she soon discovered that its small size was to its detriment, and even standing atop it at full stretch, she still could not reach the volume of her desires.
Elizabeth was so engrossed in the task that it was not until a familiar deep, rumbling voice sounded behind her that she quitted her efforts. Although she knew precisely who had entered the library, she was no less startled by his presence. She had been so caught up in retrieving the volume, that she had not heard her husband’s footsteps outside the library, nor comprehended that he had opened the door and she was no longer alone.
‘Elizabeth, what on earth are you doing?’ asked Darcy in confusion, as he watched his wife hop down from the foot stool. He had entered the library with every expectation of finding that she was passing the evening quietly reading, while he had been detained by a pressing matter of business.
‘I was attempting to retrieve a book,’ explained Elizabeth, as she gestured to it on the top shelf, ‘as you see, I have not been blessed with legs long enough to reach it.’
‘That is a shame indeed, although your legs are quite lovely as they are,’ said Darcy with a coy smile, which delighted Elizabeth, before his expression grew serious and added he, ‘happily, I can think of a rather tall gentleman who may assist you in your endeavour, madam.’
‘How fortuitous! Thank you, Mr Darcy,’ said Elizabeth gratefully, ‘and who would this tall gentleman be? I would be most thankful for his assistance.’
Elizabeth knew she had gotten a rise out of him, for despite Darcy’s best attempts to hide it, she could not miss the slight frown of his lips at her quip. His pride was certainly under better regulation, and indeed he did not possess it very particularly with regards to his height. It was not the fact that she had downplayed his stature which displeased Darcy. No, when it came to where his wife directed her affection, Darcy was not a man who liked to be teased on that particular subject. Even though he was secure enough that she would never look at another man in the same loving way she regarded him with her fine, dark eyes, Elizabeth’s joke about another man was nonetheless a stab to his poor heart.
‘It is fortunate that you married a man with not only a generous sense of humour, but also height enough to help you retrieve the volume,’ murmured Darcy, his eyes darkened with some emotion that thrilled Elizabeth.
‘Indeed, I am quite the lucky wife,’ acknowledged Elizabeth, ‘it is fortunate that such a tall gentleman stands before me.’
‘Well, he would be most eager to help you in this matter, but he requires payment for the labour.’
‘In what form would I be able to settle my debts?’
‘A kiss would suffice.’
‘Oh, sir! That is quite a scandalous debt indeed! For just one book?’
Darcy gestured to the shelf as he made his reply, ‘it looks rather a heavy volume, and it is quite a long way to reach, you see.’
‘Hm, I suppose that is fair,’ nodded Elizabeth, ‘very well, I can spare one kiss.’
At once, Darcy stepped towards her. He encircled her waist with his long arms; Elizabeth felt her pulse quicken at his touch. Darcy leaned down and hovered tantalisingly close to her lips, before his warm breath washed across her face, as he whispered, ‘you are generosity itself, Mrs Darcy.’
Since she had been entreated to kiss him, it was Elizabeth who closed the distance and they met for a passionate, yet languid kiss. She savoured every moment that their lips touched. Elizabeth soon placed her arms around Darcy’s neck with the avowed intention to steady herself against any weakness in her knees produced by such a thorough kiss, yet with a secondary purpose to draw him nearer. She was desperate for him to kiss her with unrestrained ardour, but Darcy appeared to be holding back, never quite allowing himself to be lost in the moment entirely.
When they drew apart, Darcy rested his forehead against Elizabeth’s, as the pair regained their breath. It had been so delightful that it was difficult for Darcy to recollect the purpose of claiming such a kiss, until Elizabeth reminded him as she questioned, ‘could I have my book now, please, Mr Darcy?’
Darcy furrowed his brow in contemplation and brought his finger to his chin, giving a faithful impression of an ancient Greek philosopher. As he delivered the verdict, he attempted to suppress the smirk that threatened to overtake his features, ‘while I found that kiss very pleasing, I believe I should require another. It looks quite a considerable distance, you see, and I find myself rather nervous about reaching up to such a height,’ finished he, with an adorable pout.
Elizabeth chuckled and shook her head at her ridiculous, endearing husband. This playfulness in him, she had never expected! Not from that tall, proud gentleman whom she had first encountered in Hertfordshire. Happily, however, since their return to Pemberley, Elizabeth had discovered there to be a certain whimsical side to her husband, and she delighted in drawing it out once more, for her own amusement.
Thankfully for Mr Darcy, Elizabeth was only too happy to indulge him. Yet, this time, their kiss was anything but restrained. Darcy’s hands roamed along her sides and pulled her towards him, while Elizabeth placed her hands on his chest and enjoyed every attention of his lips. They remained engaged thus for a few minutes until, fearing that things would escalate to a most improper degree given their present surroundings, Darcy reluctantly pulled away from his wife’s lips. The library was no proper place to express their ardour!
Once his blood had sufficiently cooled, Darcy could not resist a few more pecks. He leant in to brush his lips firstly against her forehead, then each cheek, the tip of her nose, the space between her eyebrows and finally her chin. Elizabeth giggled at his antics and reminded him that it was she who was meant to bestow kisses upon her tall saviour, but Darcy quieted her protestations by pressing his lips against hers once more.
Eventually, when he was satisfied that Elizabeth had paid the debt for the favour, Darcy reached up and easily removed the volume from the top shelf, as Elizabeth watched him with a wonderment that was most pleasing to his ego. With a bow, Darcy handed her the volume, ‘your book, madam,’ said he, smilingly.
Elizabeth chuckled and shook her head at his antics, ‘thank you, sir. You are most kind.’
Darcy was about to claim another kiss from her lips, when Elizabeth suddenly let out a long yawn, which she desperately hid with her hand. He regarded her affectionately, for she looked so effortlessly adorable, and offered, ‘you seem quite exhausted madam. Perhaps you may read your novel abed?’
Elizabeth, with a sheepish smile, nodded in agreement, and Darcy took the small hand—that was not clutching her book—firmly in his. They walked from the library, and Darcy beamed at his wife every step of the way. As they made their way up the grand staircase, Darcy could not resist giving the indication that he would be only too happy to retrieve any book that Elizabeth wished for from Pemberley’s extensive library. He had so enjoyed stealing kisses from her lips in such a playful manner.
In response, Elizabeth could only chuckle. She had so enjoyed Mr Darcy’s kisses, and she meditated that, perhaps, in future, she should limit her reading habits to only those volumes located on the very top shelves of the library, so that she may require a certain tall gentleman to retrieve them for her, whom she would gratefully oblige with all the payments he requested from her lips.