Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Lamps were lit in abundance, giving the house a bright and cheery glow of welcome. Scattered around the grounds were tall torches, lending increased illumination in the gathering darkness of evening. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Keith, the steward, waited atop the entryway steps, both smiling warmly. Darcy led Elizabeth forward.
“Mrs. Reynolds, you remember Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Now it is my boundless honor and joy to introduce you to her again as my wife, Mrs. Darcy.”
Mrs. Reynolds curtseyed. Her face was beaming and in an act of spontaneous pleasure she took Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “Welcome to Pemberley Mrs. Darcy. On behalf of the entire staff I wish to express our delight in meeting you. Please rest assured that we will all endeavor to make you comfortable in every possible way. We are at your disposal.”
Elizabeth smiled, “Thank you Mrs. Reynolds. Your kind words ease my heart.”
Darcy introduced Mr. Keith. “Mrs. Darcy, welcome. I echo Mrs. Reynolds’ greeting and assurances. It is a tremendous honor to welcome you to the Pemberley household and family.”
Mrs. Reynolds turned to her Master and curtseyed, “Mr. Darcy, welcome home. All has been prepared as you instructed. The senior staff is waiting inside and dinner will be served whenever you wish.”
They entered the enormous foyer. The room, with it’s marble flooring and painted ceilings, recalled fond memories to Elizabeth. It was her visit here which had brought William back into her life. It was the beauty and elegance of these rooms which had finally coalesced her tumultuous thoughts of him into the recognition of the amazing man he is. She stole a glance at him as he walked so proudly by her side, a dazzling smile on his lips. Suddenly it felt so very right to be here, to be with him, that all her doubts and fears vanished as a vapor on the wind.
Elizabeth’s eyes fell on the people standing in a row before her. She experienced a moment of embarrassment to have so many stares directed her way, but the looks were universally ones of welcome and friendliness. Darcy took the lead in introducing her to each member of the staff present. The head cook, Mrs. Langton, was a commanding woman, tall and stout. One glance at her features and manner and Elizabeth could well imagine the formidable competence of her kitchen management. The Butler, Mr. Taylor, a man of some sixty years, bent slightly but robust nonetheless. Mr. Darcy’s valet, Samuel, a handsome man of approximately forty. Mrs. Reynolds’ assistant, Miss Jameson, a pretty woman in her mid-thirties. Mrs. Reynolds explained that the remainder of the staff, both inside and outside, would be introduced to her tomorrow.
Lastly she was introduced to Marguerite. Elizabeth almost gasped in surprise. Marguerite was an exquisite creature, quite small in stature and build, blonde hair pulled severely back into a knot, and the face of an angel. Her voice was rich and deep for a woman, with a trace of her native French in accent. She greeted Elizabeth properly but with warmth. “Mrs. Darcy, welcome. It is a tremendous honor to be chosen to serve you. I understand that my position here is dependent on my ability to please you and serve you competently. To that end, I beg you to express your needs and wishes to me and to hastily inform me of any errors I may make.”
“Thank you Marguerite.” Elizabeth was quite moved by the greetings she had received. She addressed the group in total, “Thank you to all of you for your sincere welcome. I have been somewhat nervous regarding my reception, as Mr. Darcy could confirm, but your graciousness and concern for my well-being has comforted me. Thank you, again, from the bottom of my heart.”
Mr. Darcy took over, dismissing the staff to their duties. He directed Mrs. Reynolds to have dinner prepared for two hours hence. “I will be giving Mrs. Darcy a tour of our apartments, Mrs. Reynolds. Please see that we are not disturbed. Marguerite, Mrs. Darcy will ring for you when she is ready to dress for dinner. Samuel, I’ll call for you as well.” Curtseys and bows all around, then Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth.
They ascended the grand marble staircase, taking a turn to the right then to the left, heading to a part of the house Elizabeth did not see during her tour in September. Elizabeth couldn’t absorb it all! Every wall held a picture or statue or wall covering of incredible beauty. Most of the doors they passed were closed. Occasional hallways branched off to unknown destinations. Perfectly spaced lamps provided illumination.
“The second floor is primarily private apartments.” Darcy explained. He stopped and pointed right down another intersecting passageway. “Georgiana’s chambers are down there and to the left are guests quarters. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Bingley have rooms set aside for their use. I suppose we’ll need to reassign Bingley’s chambers as the current ones are inappropriate for Jane as well. Our chambers are up this staircase, on the third floor.”
“William, I’m lost already! I sincerely hope you plan on staying close by my side or I may wander off some forgotten corridor and never be seen again! I could well become the ghost bride who haunts Pemberley for all eternity.” She laughed.
“Never fear, my dear. I intend to keep you quite near, not only so you won’t get lost but for other purely selfish motives,” he said cheekily. “In truth, Pemberley is not as difficult to navigate as some manors I’ve been in. Rosings, for instance, is far older and I have always imagined the original architects taking perverse delight in designing a maze of halls and rooms with the singular intention of confusing the inhabitants. Also, Pemberley is well lit, day and night. I refuse to bump into walls so insist on lit lamps in the main rooms and passages. All the rooms and hallways have windows which render sunlight during the day.”
They had reached the third floor landing and Darcy paused. He gestured to the right hand passages. “Those rooms are unoccupied and have been since I moved into my father’s chambers years ago. Occasionally we have needed to open them for guests, but I prefer guests to stay on the second floor. Someday our children will reside in those rooms.” He said the last sentence softly and looked at Elizabeth with tenderness.
She smiled back but couldn’t resist teasing just a bit, “And how many rooms are we to generate occupants for, sir? A girl likes to grasp what she is in for in life!”
“Well, let me think,” Darcy thoughtfully mused, “there are at least a dozen empty chambers down that wing and I believe three on this wing, so…” he paused and in mock seriousness began counting on his fingers, pretending to be unable to add it all before he gave up, “It’s quite a few, my dear, so I suppose we aught to get busy with the unpleasant task of creating said occupants.” He sighed deeply and theatrically, an expression of mournful sadness on his face, “A gentleman must be diligent to his duties.”
Elizabeth laughed and took his hand, propelling him forward, “You are incorrigible! Lead the way before I attempt it and get us hopelessly waylaid.”
Darcy complied, leading her to a set of double doors to the left. He stopped before opening them and took her face in his hands. “Elizabeth, I have dreamed of showing you these rooms, of having you here as my wife for so long now. I am overwhelmed! Pinch me or something so I know I am not dreaming.”
“I’ll do better.” she said. She wound her arms behind his neck, twining her fingers into his hair, and brought his face to hers. She kissed him with wild abandon, pouring her love into the task. He encircled her waist with his arms, drawing her to him so that she was pressed against every plane of his body. She could feel his ardor, his desire and arousal, and she experienced it too. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply of her lavender fragrance. She held him tightly, allowing him the time he needed to regain control and steady his breathing. Softly she whispered, “I love you Fitzwilliam Darcy. Now, beloved, are you convinced of my reality?” He nodded, kissed her lips briefly and regretfully released her.
Turning back to the doors, he said, “Remember, my love, these rooms were my mothers and she decorated them when she came to Pemberley as a new bride. Therefore, the fashion is over thirty years old and totally outdated. You will be able to refurbish the chambers however you desire.” He opened the door to his wife’s sitting room and, holding her hand, they entered.
The room was generous but cozy. His mother had had an observable predilection for green and peach. Lizzy did not dislike the motif, his mother obviously having exceptional taste, but she knew instantly it wasn’t her preference. However, this was a vague thought as her eyes were drawn to the large windows, the general dimensions of the room, and the fine fireplace. She could easily imagine being very comfortable relaxing here.
Darcy was studying her closely. “I have arranged for a decorator to come from London next week, dearest. He will assist you with finding a style more pleasing to you.”
“Truly, William, you worry too much. The room is beautiful. I will grant that some modification would be welcome. I tend to prefer darker colors, earthy tones, I guess you could say. Nonetheless, I would not want to embark on a spending frenzy simply because the colors are not to my liking!”
Darcy laughed, “Now it is you who are worrying too much. The expense is not an issue. I assure you the estate can afford renovating a couple rooms.” Lizzy furrowed her brow. She wondered, briefly, if she would ever become accustomed to money not being a concern.
There were two doors to the right. He led her to one which opened into her bedchamber. It was arrayed with the same colors and fashion as the sitting room. The bed was ample but not overly huge. There were also two doors visible in the far wall.
“Where does that door lead?” she asked, pointing to a door recessed in a curtained alcove.
“The nursery,” Darcy responded, “It hasn’t been used since Georgiana was born and is empty. Beyond it is another chamber for a nurse.” He had come behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, kissing her below her ear.
“Are you planning on practicing the filling of those uninhabited chambers this moment, Mr. Darcy?” she said archly.
“It is a bedchamber, my dear, although not the bedchamber I have fantasized seeing you in.” He playfully nibbled on her earlobe.
She turned in his arms, smiling wickedly. “Fantasies, is it? Why, Mr. Darcy, how decadent of you! I’m shocked to the core!”
He held her tighter, “You minx! You’ve revealed your dreams to me so don’t play innocent!” He kissed her heartily but she wiggled out of his arms, giggling.
“We may never complete this tour, sir, if you constantly interrupt.” and with an impish smile she flounced to the unexplored door. He followed, smiling foolishly.
This door led, as she had figured, to her dressing area. This room, with adjacent bathing area, was larger than the bedchamber. Rows upon rows of drawers, numerous racks to hang gowns, and shelves for shoes lined one entire wall length. Her meager belongings took up no space at all. An enormous floor length mirror stood at one end. The vanity was magnificent with a dark blue velvet cushioned bench, dozens of small drawers, and a mirror edged in gold. On the top was a large bouquet of white roses and lavender in a crystal vase surrounded by perfume bottles and a music box. Through the arch she could see a bathing tub and an elegant stand with a porcelain washbasin and pitcher.
However, none of this Elizabeth noticed initially because her eyes were immediately captured by the painting on the wall above the vanity. She gasped and her trembling hand touched her mouth as tears filled her eyes. She was speechless.
“William….. how….where….I don’t understand…”
He was beside her, one arm around her waist, an expression of incomparable exhilaration on his face. “Do you like it, my darling? I commissioned Mr. _____ to paint it. He secreted out there every morning for a month to capture the moment as it was. You he spied when you were at Netherfield. It‘s exactly as I saw you on that morning.” he finished, his voice throbbing with emotion.
It was a landscape, but not just any landscape. It was the meadow with wandering creek and narrow wooden bridge not far from Longbourn. The bridge where they met on a misty dawn in late September, drawn to each other as if by magic. It was painted with the same hazy English fog swirling about, the fog that, for a moment, had convinced Lizzy she must be dreaming as she watched Mr. Darcy materialize as if from thin air. The artist had painted her figure on the bridge, in a white gown and old brown coat, gazing with surprise and suppressed happiness toward someone not seen. The work was exquisite but even if it had been of poor quality she would have been tremendously moved.
Elizabeth’s thoughts and emotions were in riot. She wanted to cry, to laugh, to hold her husband tenderly, to passionately make love to him right there….. He surprised her continually in his ability to show his adoration for her, his devotion. For an agonizing second she experienced an acute stab of unworthiness. What had she done in life to deserve such an extraordinary man? The answer was nothing…..his love was a gift and she would spend her life dedicated to the one task of loving him in return with equal fervor.
With tears coursing down her cheeks, she turned to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him as close as possible, her face pressed against his chest. She couldn’t think of the proper words to express herself, so she merely held him. For a very long while they stood thus, embracing in love without thoughts of passion, content to hear the other breathing, the warmth of their bodies seeping into each other. Unaware of who moved first, Darcy kissed her tears away with the utmost tenderness, still locked together in sweet harmony. Softly murmured endearments proceeded from both their mouths in a welter of need to articulate the consuming love they both felt.
Eventually their eyes met, hers shimmering with tears, his the pure blue of a cloudless summer sky. He smiled, a smile that lit his face and caused Elizabeth’s knees to weaken. “So, you approve of the painting?” he whispered in his melodious voice.
Elizabeth laughed and bent her head to his chest momentarily before looking back at him, mirth dancing in her eyes. “Yes, my love, I ‘approve’ of the painting.” She giggled and hugged him again. “Thank you! It’s… unbelievable. I’m at a loss for words. You will never cease to amaze me, William. With each passing day I realize how blessed I am to have you as mine and how I shall enjoy being your wife.”
“Well, that’s a relief! I was beginning to wonder,” he teased, kissing her nose. He snatched her hand and led her toward a door she hadn’t noted previously. He stopped and assumed a melodramatic tone, “The tour commences, Mrs. Darcy! Now to my favorite room in all of Pemberley, or at least hereafter it shall be. The chamber which shall be subjected to the greatest of joys, pleasures untold, passion of the highest order, ecstasy unparalleled!” and with a flourish he opened the door to his bedchamber.
Elizabeth continued to laugh at her husband’s silliness as she crossed the threshold. Immediately she was enveloped by a profound sensation of peace and contentment. In one swift glance she knew this room was perfect, it was home. The walls were covered with a rich mahogany paneling and a cream wallpaper printed with a twining design of autumn leaves. The ceiling was also cream colored with intricately scrolled beams of polished mahogany. The massive four-poster bed was also mahogany with curtains of burgundy velvet and a coverlet of cream with burgundy edging. A gigantic fireplace with roaring fire gave the room a comforting glow. The carpet was plush, an incredible design in blues and gold. Two large windows, with gauzy curtains, flanked a set of French style doors opening onto a balcony. The chamber itself was generous in size but sparingly furnished, creating a sublime atmosphere of openness.
Elizabeth walked about the room, touching and admiring. Many of her husband's personal touches were evident..... a forgotten book on the bed stand, a miniature of Georgiana, a decanter of brandy and several glasses with F.D. embossed, a pair of slippers next to the bed, a small pillow with Parsifal's likeness embroidered on it. She had not previously contemplated what William's tastes might be. Having not seen any of the private rooms on her previous visits, she had had no way to make a judgment. Yet, looking about this room, she knew it was absolutely him. More amazing, it was absolutely her! The rich colors, the lack of pretension, the hominess were precisely as she would desire.
Darcy was watching her intently and nervously. "I had some furnishings removed and purchased the carpet and coverlet to replace what I had before, they being quite old. These have been my rooms for many years, my love, so I'm afraid they have been indelibly stamped with my personality. However, it important to me that you find this suite to your liking. Any suggestions you have are welcome."
He moved to where she was standing and took her hands. "Elizabeth, I am aware that we haven't discussed this and I do not wish to embarrass you," he swallowed then continued with a slight blush on his cheeks, "Convention would dictate that these remain my chambers and you have your own. I would never presume to force my wishes upon you nor request you submit to any action that is unfavorable to you. However, I have been alone for far too long and have no appetite for solitude. My fervent hope has been that you would choose to share my chambers with me at all times. However, I will understand if this is not.... Elizabeth, why are you laughing? This is serious!"
"I’m sorry, my dear but….. Fitzwilliam Darcy, for all your wisdom, maturity and authority, you can be such a baby sometimes!" she couldn't stop laughing. "Any time we allowed convention to dictate our relationship we ended up miserable. Propriety would not have had me spying on Georgiana nor you running after me at Pemberley. Convention would not have had you rush off to Lambton to invite total strangers to dine at your house. And it most assuredly was neither proper nor conventional for you and I to meet half clothed and unescorted in the wee hours of the morning! I would say that flouting convention has served us quite well and I do not intend to backtrack in this matter!"
She placed her hands around his face and pulled him toward her until their foreheads were touching, "After all we've suffered to be together, after the love we've shared these past two days, did you honestly suppose for one second that, day or night, I would want to be anywhere but right next to you?" she inquired tenderly.
His only reply was to kiss her, deeply and ardently. He pulled back slightly, "I love you Elizabeth."
"And I love you William." Kiss.
"You can make any changes you wish." Kiss.
"Thank you but I love everything exactly as it is." Kiss.
“You’ll stay with me each night?” Kiss.
“Forever, and all day too, until you are sick of me.” Kiss.
“That will never happen!” Kiss.
“I can be annoying at times.” Kiss.
"Do you truly think me a baby?" Kiss.
"Only occasionally, beloved, and in the most endearing way. Now hush up and kiss me!"
Darcy complied with abundant enthusiasm. Elizabeth unbuttoned Darcy's waistcoat, ran her hands up his chest then her fingers moved to his cravat and began working the knots. With immeasurable strength of will he stayed her hands. With a heavy sigh and a groan he took a step back and in a trembling voice whispered, "I must be insane!" He ran a hand over his face. "It's time to prepare for dinner, beloved. God knows it's the last thing I wish to do right now, but we should." He stated sarcastically, "I'm attempting to employ some of that maturity and wisdom you alluded to."
She chuckled shakily and fought against an excruciating urge to overpower his 'wisdom and maturity,' positive he would capitulate! She managed to behave, though, and they parted reluctantly to their respective dressing rooms.
It took a bit of time for her to figure out how to ring for Marguerite. While she waited she further inspected the room, opening the many drawers on the vanity, discovering numerous items that had not previously belonged to her. Among the treasures were tiny notes written in Darcy’s hand with phrases such as: “because I love you” or “they sparkled like your eyes” or “it matches your green gown” or “I adore you in red.”
A box next to the vase of flowers had a card with “to my wife, my matchless pearl” written on it. She hesitated but curiosity overcame her so she opened it. Inside rested a spectacular strand of pearls! Elizabeth collapsed onto the bench, too overcome with all that had happened since she arrived at Pemberley to think clearly. Marguerite entered moments later to encounter her Mistress motionless and staring off into space.
“Madame, are you well?”
“What? Oh, yes. Forgive me Marguerite, I’m simply feeling a bit overwhelmed.”
“I understand, Mistress. If I may suggest a hot bath? I know that always brightens my spirits.”
A half hour later, Elizabeth was dressed and feeling her old self again. She was well aware of why her husband had a penchant for her and pearls, so she decided to wear the gown she had worn at the Netherfield Ball and she requested Marguerite adorn her hair with a pearl encrusted comb she found in the vanity and, naturally, she wore the necklace. As a final touch she nestled a sprig of lavender and a single white rose between her breasts.
Darcy was awaiting her in his sitting room, which she had not yet viewed. Her eyes were only for her husband, however. Why was it that she still found herself dazzled by how handsome he is? She supposed it was because of her initial reaction to him…. the miserable soul with the quizzical brow… she had scoffed. What a fool I was! she thought, not for the first time.
The fiery expression crossing his visage left no doubt his opinion of her ensemble. His provocative eyes ranged leisurely down her body and her heart instantly began beating erratically. He walked to her slowly, a sensual smile on his lips. He stopped before her and delicately touched her skin just below the necklace. “These were my mother’s,” he said, his eyes on the pearls and the neck they graced, “I knew they would be beautiful on you.” His fingers moved lightly across her collar, along her shoulder then grazed along the edge of her gown until reaching the flowers. He met her eyes with one brief smoldering gaze, then lowered his face to the flowers. He inhaled their scent, his breath tickling her skin, then placed two soft kisses onto the tender flesh on either side of the corsage.
If his arm hadn’t encircled her waist, Elizabeth is certain she would have fallen. “William” she whispered, almost pleading, her arms already around his neck, her fingers in his hair.
He was studying her face, her half opened eyes and parted lips. “You are so beautiful, my Lizzy. I love you so!”
They were lost and they both knew it. Passion had overtaken them both and dinner was completely forgotten. Luckily, or unluckily, Darcy’s valet chose that precise moment to knock on the door announcing that dinner was served. Even so, it seemed forever before they came to their senses. Darcy cleared his throat huskily before calling out that they would be right down.
Dinner was served in the smaller of the two dining rooms that Pemberley had (Elizabeth would discover this fact later). It was the same room she had dined in with her Aunt and Uncle. They were both quite hungry, luncheon having been a basket shared in the carriage hours ago.
They were mounting the stairs to return to their room when Mr. Keith appeared. “Mr. Darcy,” he bowed, “my apologizes, Sir and Madame. Mr. Darcy there is a matter of some urgency. Forgive me for interrupting but I fear it cannot wait.”
“Of course, Mr. Keith. Allow me to escort Mrs. Darcy to her rooms and I shall meet you in my study momentarily.”
They proceeded up the stairs. “Do you think it serious, William?” Elizabeth asked.
“I hope not. However, Mr. Keith is not an alarmist and would not disturb me today of all days if it wasn’t important. Don’t fret, my love, I will return as soon as possible. If this matter demands my attention for any length of time, I will send word.” He kissed her at her door. “Wait for me,” he whispered, then he was gone.
He was gone for more than an hour. He had sent word that he was needed at the stables and wasn’t sure how long it would be. Elizabeth freshened up, donned another nightgown and used her time to wander around the suite. She meandered about his dressing room, stunned at the quantity of clothing he possessed. His familiar scent permeated the air. The personal items on his dresser were arranged in perfect order, all of them dear to her because they were his. She impulsively grabbed one of his robes and put it on, wrapping herself in his scent, oddly comforted knowing that the soft fabric had touched his body.
She sat before the fire, reading for some time, but began to feel sleepy, so she went outside onto the balcony. The view was stupendous, even at night. The torches were still blazing, casting reflections over the water. She wished William were with her, yet her joy was such that she couldn’t feel too depressed. It was a cold night but Lizzy was warm in William‘s robe. She sat down on the stone sundial and contented herself with waiting.
Darcy returned in such a state of hurry that he only paused long enough to allow Samuel to remove his boots, stockings, jacket and waistcoat. He washed his face and hands quickly, splashed a drop of cologne, then rushed into their bedchamber, untucking his shirt as he went. Elizabeth wasn’t there but he saw the open balcony door.
“You’re back!” she said happily, “Is everything alright?”
He bent down and kissed her lips. “Yes, it is now.” he replied. “One of my best brood mares was having a difficult birth. The foal survived, one of Parsifal’s many offspring, as a matter of fact. She, however, had to be put down. I hate having to do it, but on occasion it cannot be avoided.” He sighed.
“I’m sorry, William. I know how much your horses mean to you.”
“Thank you, my love. It is disturbing but one of the unfortunate occurrences when one breeds horses, or any animal for that matter.” He shook his head. “Anyway, it’s done now. Why are you out here, Elizabeth? It’s quite cold.”
“Enjoying the view while I waited for you.” For a time they remained silent. Elizabeth unconsciously began caressing his calf.
He looked down at her. “You’re still wearing the pearls,” he noticed.
She smiled winsomely, “I like them. I thought you might enjoy seeing me wear them…..and only them.”
He smiled one of his devastating smiles, looked away briefly then knelt down before her. “How are you this evening, my dear?”
“Very well,” she took his hands into hers, “Only I wish you would not call me ‘my dear’”
“Why?”
“Because it is what my father always calls my mother when he is cross about something,” she said with a small smile.
“Then, what endearments am I allowed?” he asked with a smile.
“Well, let me think,” she playfully cocked her head, “’Lizzy’ for everyday, ‘My Pearl’ for Sundays….”
His smile broadened at her choice of words, remembering what he had written on the box.
“…and, ‘Goddess Divine’ but only on very special occasions!” she laughed.
Darcy loved her ridiculous sense of humor. Only Lizzy would say something so nonsensical. “Oh,” he nodded and chuckled, “and….what shall I call you when I am cross?” he paused and leaned close to her, “Mrs. Darcy?”
“No!….no,” she looked down at his hands, both of them caressing the other, fingers interlaced. She met his eyes and saucily continued, “You may only call me ‘Mrs. Darcy’ when you are completely, perfectly and incandescently happy!”
He laughed softly. “Then, how are you this evening……Mrs. Darcy?” he asked in his deep voice, reaching up to tenderly caress her left cheek and kissing her forehead. He pulled back slightly, gazing intently into her gorgeous eyes. “Mrs. Darcy,” he repeated and kissed her left cheek.
Lizzy exhaled a gentle laugh then closed her eyes, the feel of his breath and warmth so near her face assaulting her senses.
“Mrs. Darcy,” he whispered and kissed the tip of her nose. “Mrs. Darcy,” again, with a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth.
He paused and their eyes met. Her lips were parted, her breathing uneven. Surely she would die if he didn’t kiss her soon! He stroked her chin with his thumb, adoring the perfection of her face.
“Mrs. Darcy,” the last so soft to be almost inaudible as he with deliberate patience slowly approached her mouth, kissing her with a nearly imperceptible touch. He lingered, his lips feathering hers, taunting her with languid restraint. She pressed into him but he retreated slightly, maintaining a gentle pressure and movement on her mouth. She moaned and he smiled against her lips delighting in the ability to inflame her. She wrapped her hands around his neck pulling him to her at the same time arching herself toward his chest. His self-discipline snapped. He growled her name huskily, gathered her onto his lap then lifted her bodily, carrying her to their bed.
Posted on Thursday, 16 March 2006
Chapter One
Elizabeth awoke groggily with the bizarre impression of having lost something. For several minutes she experienced total disorientation. She was in an enormous, strange bed with dark curtains drawn about. She was alone and the sensation of emptiness and heartache persisted even though she couldn't immediately identify the cause. She rubbed her heavy eyes and forced them to remain open. Part of her wanted to retreat back into sleep but the other part, the part that felt uneasy, urged her to wake up. She made herself sit up and as she did so her gaze fell on the slight depression in the pillow and mattress next to her. Immediately reality crashed over her consciousness. She knew exactly where she was and the fact that she was alone hit her as an almost physical blow.
"William?" she called, her voice louder than she intended and, to her mild shame, bordering on hysteria. How could she feel so bereft after only two days of waking with his body beside her? Why this sense of panic?
She jumped out of the bed, grabbing her nightgown from off the floor where, in their haste, it had been tossed. She pulled it on quickly and had her hand on the doorknob before rationality returned to her clouded mind. It certainly would not do for the Mistress of Pemberley to go dashing through the house in her nightgown!
Calm yourself, Elizabeth! Think! Her first thought was that she was quite cold. William's robe, the one she had worn last night, was lying over the chair so she put it on. Instantly she felt coherency and calmness wash over her. The combination of warmth and her husband's scent restored her clarity. She realized suddenly and with acute embarrassment that she was being utterly ridiculous. Firstly, William would not have left her without good reason. Secondly, all she need do is ring and a servant would appear and tell her what was happening.
She inhaled deeply. Looking at the mantle clock she noted that it was only a little after seven. William must have arisen early. She walked back to the bed and touched the spot where his head had laid.... it was cold. She actually felt tears start in her eyes! Really, Lizzy! she chided herself, what would he think to see you acting the lovesick fool!
Then she noticed the note on the bed stand with her name written in his hand. She collapsed onto the end of the bed and picked it up. I truly am a fool. Of course he would leave me a note!
Beloved,
I woke early, as is my usual wont, not that you would necessarily have ascertained this fact based on these past two days! You were sleeping so peacefully and absolutely beautiful. I knew I would be unable to resist waking you if I tarried any longer. I wished to check on the new colt. I will not be long. As much as I do love my horses, they in no way compare to you, my precious wife. Such is my desire to kiss you, even as I write this note I am overwhelmed by the need to do so, that my visit to the stables will be brief. I love you so, my darling. William
She had no sooner finished reading when she heard the faint squeak of the door opening. She bolted up and rushed across the room without pausing to determine if it was even him, not that anyone else would be entering their bedchamber. It was Darcy and he had only opened it enough to peek his head in. His face lit up at seeing her but she so surprised him that he literally fell against the jamb when she flew into him. He caught her with one arm, the other desperately grabbing at the wall to keep himself from falling over. He involuntarily grunted and winced when his back made contact with the hard wood.
"Oh, William! I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?" She stepped back a pace so he could right himself, her hands on his face.
"No more than a bruise, my love," he laughed. He shut the door and took her into his arms, kissing her soundly. He reluctantly let go of her but took her hand and walked over to the chair by the fire. He sat down and began pulling off his boots.
"Let me," she said, and knelt down in front of him pushing his hands away and removed his boots.
He leaned back and watched her, a happy smile on his face. She stole a glance up at him, really examining him for the first time, and paused in her task, her mouth dropping open. "What is it?" he asked.
"What in the world are you wearing?" she questioned him in astonishment. Elizabeth would never in a million years have imagined the impeccable Mr. Darcy in such attire. His shirt was of coarse linen discolored from old sweat, open at the neck without cravat, breeches with mud stains and actual tears in the knees, and a thick coat that was threadbare with two buttons missing! Even more incredible to her was how alluring he appeared. The rough clothing, his face unshaven, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his mussed hair clinging damply to his neck, the musky smell of horse and earth combined together eliciting an odd effect on her senses.
He looked down at himself, having totally forgotten what he had on in his yearning to see his wife, and blushed scarlet. He stood up quickly. "Forgive me Elizabeth! I intended to clean up and change," he spluttered, "I only meant to make sure you were still asleep. Give me a moment.…." He turned toward his dressing room, but Elizabeth snatched at his hand.
She stood up and placed her hands on his chest. He watched her with a mingled expression of bafflement and mortification. "I did not say I disapproved," she said softly, "In fact, you are rather fetching. So.....rugged and…wild!”
He stared at her, a tiny frown crossing his features. “Are you making fun of me?”
She stepped closer and ran her fingers along his jawbone. “Do I look like I am teasing you?”
“No,” he swallowed, “however, I do not comprehend how my work clothes would captivate you. I wear these when I train the horses. I am dirty and…..unorganized!” She had moved even nearer and was kissing his neck. “Elizabeth, you cannot be serious?!” He was aghast.
She spoke softly against his ear, “Did you not tell me that you first knew you loved me when I walked to Netherfield to see Jane? Was I not wild and disheveled? You confessed you found me attractive, sir. How desirable did you find me then?” she inquired with a gentle nibble to his lobe.
“Exceedingly so,” he breathed. He grasped her elbows and pulled back so he could see her face. “So, you are telling me that all this time I only needed to don these garments and I would have driven you mad with longing?” he grinned and arched one brow.
“Perhaps,” she answered pertly, “I guess we shall never know. It is, however, currently having a tremendously positive affect on me.” The ministrations of her hands proved her sincerity. She had untucked his shirt while she spoke and was currently running her palms up and down his back with ever increasing urgency.
He laughed and shook his head. “I cannot help but visualize all the money I could have saved on clothing if I had only known this fact.” Then he kissed her and willingly surrendered to her wishes.
Mrs. Darcy’s first complete day as Mistress of Pemberley certainly began wonderfully enough. Darcy seemed in no hurry to leave their bed once he was back in it with his wife now awake. They cuddled and talked for some time until they were both ready for some breakfast. This they took in his sitting room.
Lizzy had only given this room a cursory glance last evening so took the time to examine it now. Like Darcy’s bedchamber, he had decorated his sitting room in rich colors of forest green and burgundy. Large windows facing to the east offered illumination and a spectacular view of the sunrise. The furnishings were of a lighter wood than in the bedroom. The chairs and sofas were universally soft and comfortable. It was an inviting room however she was left with the impression that it wasn’t much used.
“Do you spend much time in this room, William?”
He looked up from his newspaper. “Actually, no.” he answered, gazing around as if puzzled by the fact. He frowned, “I am not really sure why. It seems I have tended to spend most of my time in my study working. When I relax in the evenings it is either with Georgiana in the music room or parlor, or alone in my bed reading.” He smiled then and caressed his wife’s hand. “Of course now I shall not be alone and for that I am eternally grateful.”
She smiled back, “Well, I like this room very much.” She turned a serious face to her husband and he put down his paper. “I have been giving this some thought. In regard’s to our conversation yesterday, I honestly do not see myself using my chambers all that much. I cannot imagine not wanting to be with you awake or asleep.” She flushed slightly and dropped her eyes demurely. Darcy glowed with satisfaction.
“In truth, the only time I can see myself needing to be apart from you is when our babies are born and I will need to be close to the nursery.” The mention of babies caused Darcy’s heart to leap with a massive jolt of bliss. “As for having my own sitting room, I cannot remotely imagine the need. You told me once that your mother had a private parlor for when she entertained her lady friends. Were you referring to her sitting room way up here?”
“No. Her parlor is on the first floor, across from my study. It is mostly unused now and I had intended on showing it to you today. It is yours to do with as you wish.”
Lizzy nodded. “This is what I propose. The parlor is appreciated and I can envision myself needing it from time to time. When Jane visits or Georgiana and I need to engage in girl talk.” She smiled mischievously. “The bedchamber I would like to redecorate, although there is no need to rush into it nor will I alter much since it will be used so rarely. As for the sitting room, we can ignore it. No point in expending time and money on a room which will sit there unoccupied.”
“Elizabeth, you know the expense is not an issue.”
“William, please. I appreciate that it is not as far as you are concerned. However, I cannot simply change the way I am, nor do I wish to. Perhaps in time I will accustom myself to my new station in life, but be patient with me.”
Darcy leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Forgive me, dearest. Naturally I want you to be comfortable here and to make choices that will ease your transition. Tell you what, when the decorator arrives next week you and he can sit down and go crazy. Whatever you wish to do is fine by me.”
Lizzy laughed, “Really William, you are far too trusting! What if I decide to go with Scottish plaids or Oriental motifs?”
He cringed, “Point taken. Alright then, we shall meet with the decorator. Do you have any opinions on these rooms?” He swept his hand around the sitting room and toward the bedchamber.
“As I told you last night, the bedchamber is perfect. Truly. You and I appear to have similar tastes. I do not wish to change anything, although I would like to see about purchasing an overly large bearskin rug and big fluffy pillows.” she said with a suggestive smirk and risqué giggle. He grinned.
She continued, “The sitting room is lovely. What do you think about us utilizing it more often? We can be casual here whereas we cannot if we are downstairs. We could each have a small desk here, perhaps a couple of bookcases for easy access to our favorite books. Oh, and how about a side bar for our breakfasts? I so enjoy this time in the morning with you.”
“Those are excellent suggestions, my love. Consider it done.”
“One other request. I wish to have the painting of me on the bridge hung in here. We must share the joy in the reminder of the day we finally declared our love.”
He grasped her hands and pulled her onto his lap, holding her tightly. “Agreed.” He commenced lavishing her neck and shoulders with kisses and Lizzy sighed with satisfaction.
Chapter Two
It was midmorning before they left their chambers. Lizzy had expressed concern that the servants would think ill of her for languishing in their rooms half the day, but Darcy just laughed. “The servants are doubtless consumed with their daily tasks and are giving no thought to our whereabouts. If they are, well, it is our honeymoon so they will understand.” Lizzy blushed profusely which made Darcy laugh even harder.
First he sought out Mrs. Reynolds, asking her to arrange for Mrs. Darcy to meet the rest of the staff whenever it was convenient. In the meantime, he told her, they would be touring the rooms on the first floor.
They started in the library. Lizzy had seen it before, in September, and had been quite impressed. The room was enormous with ceiling to floor bookcases, almost all filled to maximum potential. Tall ladders on rollers allowed one to reach the highest shelves. Darcy explained how the volumes were organized, each case having a letter designation. He showed her the system of cards in a cabinet which catalogued the books and directed where to find each one. She had never heard of such a technique and found it fascinating. Several chairs and sofas with tables and lamps graced the room. The windows were tall and wide, as all the windows were at Pemberley, allowing incredible views in all directions and blazes of sunlight. She couldn’t help but picture her father in this room and said as much to Darcy.
“Yes,” he said, “I deem your father will set one foot in here and we shall not see him for the length of his visit! It was probably the lure of Pemberley’s library which principally swayed him to accept my proposal for your hand.”
Lizzy laughed, “Well, that and the fact that I would have undoubtedly run off with you anyway if he had not consented.”
She spoke teasingly and absently, but her words struck Darcy and he lightly grasped her chin turning her toward him. “Would you have, Lizzy?” he asked huskily, “run away with me, I mean?”
“Oh! I…. Well, it never came to that did it, William? Yet now that I think about it I remember how worried I was when you took so long in his study. I knew it was silly, that my father would never purposely refuse you knowing how much I loved you….. But then he did not know I loved you yet.” She shook her head. “It is all such a jumble, really. I do know that I had to be with you, would die if I could not be. So, yes, I would have run away with you if he had refused. I would have had no choice.” She smiled up at her husband and he kissed her, saying nothing.
Next he led her to the music room. There was Georgiana’s new pianoforte and an older one on the opposite side of the room. Propped in one corner were a beautiful cello and a violin. Lizzy asked who played them.
“Fitzwilliam plays the cello and is quite talented actually. He and Georgiana have several pieces they play together beautifully. I play the violin, but not very well. Never one to practice,” he said in a perfect imitation of his Aunt. “My mother insisted I study music but I could never control my clumsy fingers to even pound out my scales on the piano, so she gave up. I had limited success with the violin.”
“I would love to hear you play.”
Darcy laughed, “No, my love, you truly would not, trust me! Perhaps some evening when I have indulged in far too many brandies!” He took her hand and led her to the next room.
It was the formal dining room. Elizabeth had never imagined a single room could be so huge. A massive, sheet draped table in the shape of a “U” filled the space. Darcy told her it could seat 150 people. Lizzy was stunned. The room was beautiful and elegant, as all the rooms were, but there was an emptiness to it. An atmosphere of long disuse with dust thick in some areas.
“We have not opened this room since my mother died,” he remarked softly. “She loved to entertain. Here at Pemberley that is. She did not care for Town. Twice a year, at Christmas and on the first day of summer, we hosted a feast for the tenants and community. Additional tables would be placed in the ballroom. It was a tradition for generations and quite the party, let me tell you! Christmas carols in the winter and music and dancing on the terrace in the summer.” He smiled and his eyes were far away with the memory.
“Traditions must be adhered to,” Lizzy declared briskly. “This Christmas is too soon for me to prepare a party but by summer I will have figured my way around. We can arrange for it then, do you agree, my love?”
Darcy was smiling broadly. “Mistress of Pemberley indeed.” He placed his arm across her shoulders and drew her close to his side, kissed the top of her head, then steered her toward the next room.
They encountered Mrs. Reynolds as they entered the main parlor. She curtseyed and addressed them both formally, “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, the staff will be assembled in the ballroom in one half hour. After which, luncheon will be served. Does this meet with your approval?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. That will be fine.”
Lizzy strolled around the room, fondly remembering the miraculous day in early September that she had spent here with Darcy and Georgiana. Observing him in his home had released her heart wholly to him. She vividly recalled sitting here, transfixed by his peaceful face and demeanor, and realizing that she loved him.
Now he pointing out features and furnishings, sharing with her the memories attached. His parents had enjoyed having their children with them in the evenings, he told her, and they had generally relaxed here. He and Georgiana naturally gravitated to this parlor and spent their time together here as well. The mixture of his childhood memories, the yearlong unrelenting daydreams of Elizabeth here with their children running about their feet, and now the reality that she was his wife bathed him in contentment.
“My father would read a book or newspaper in that chair,” he pointed, “my mother would sit in the one along side it, sewing or reading or singing to Georgiana in her lap. I was usually reading as well. Still do actually, or I listen to Georgiana read to me. She has a sweet voice.”
“Do you sit in his chair?” Lizzy inquired, studying his luminous face.
“No, I prefer the sofa. More comfortable and I can stretch further. I am taller than my father was so my legs get cramped by the table in front. Suppose I could simply rearrange the furniture, however I am a creature of habit so things have remained unchanged.” He smiled brightly. “Probably could use some shaking up around here, Elizabeth, so indulge yourself.”
“I was reflecting on the prospect of how stimulating it will be sitting by your side, touching you on the sofa, so I don’t think I’ll be moving the table,” she responded with a little laugh. She had moved to the far window as he had been talking and currently created an angelic vision with the sun shining on her. She was leaning against the wall, so still and calm, watching him. She was enchanting and Darcy was fascinated anew by the mere presence of her. He dazedly observed her for a spell then found his feet drawn toward her as a moth to the flames.
She looked up at him, caressed his cheek and smiled, “I love you Fitzwilliam,” she purred, her features awash with love. She rarely used his full name, treasuring it for the most intimate of moments, and her tone was intensely seductive and vibrant when she did. Hearing her call him so here, now, nearly brought him to his knees. He embraced her, nestling his face in her neck, moaning her name with desire and need. In a fluid motion he sat on the window seat drawing her onto his lap.
He wondered if she grasped how vital she was to him, and whether she recognized that after all of the trials of the last year, the separations, the misunderstandings, the long waiting, and the gnawing urgency he had felt for her, these moments in her arms were like oxygen to a drowning man. He whispered her name over and over as he gently kissed her neck and shoulders. His torrid hunger for her was as powerful as ever, yet his desire to simply hold her was stronger.
Elizabeth ran her fingers through his hair and along the edge of his collar. She knew they probably should not be in this position outside their bedchamber, but she didn’t care. Being back in this room had evoked clear memories of her wonderful day here with him but also of the horrible separation afterwards. Those awful weeks of not knowing if he still loved her or if she would ever see him again. She shuddered anew at the pain and despair she had experienced.
Darcy felt her trembling and pulled back. “What is it, my heart?”
She kissed him. “Awful memories of how close I came to losing you. I do not think I could have lived if you had not come back to me, William,” she said with a small sob.
“Shhhh…..” he soothed, kissing her teary cheeks, “let it go Elizabeth. It is history. We are one now and will be forever. I refuse to allow this time to be clouded by the foolishness of the past.” His wits restored somewhat, he bestowed a soft but lingering kiss before rising from the seat. He hugged her tight then released her. He smiled gaily and reminded her they had an appointment to keep.
He offered his arm, “Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?”
She smiled bravely and placed her hand into the crook of his elbow, “Lead the way, Mr. Darcy.”
As they walked down another long hallway she had yet not discovered, she inquired, “How many people does it take to keep Pemberley operating?”
He seemed puzzled by the question. “I am not sure the exact number. As many as is needed to get the jobs done.”
Lizzy smiled inwardly. To he who grew up surrounded by innumerable servants, the question would seem ludicrous.
The ballroom at the end of the hall was so mammoth it dwarfed the formal dining room. Lizzy speculated that all of Longbourn could fit into this one room, and she would not have been far off. Details of the elegant room were ignored for now, however, as her eyes were drawn to the array of people in front of her. They were separated, accidentally or on purpose she did not know, into small clusters, rigidly at attention and wearing pristine uniforms. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Taylor, the Butler, stood formally in front. In unison, everyone in the room bowed or curtseyed. The perfection of it stunned Lizzy.
Mrs. Reynolds stepped forward. “The staff awaits your inspection, Mr. Darcy.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”
Lizzy felt the urge to laugh. It was all so stiff and slightly ridiculous to her. One glance at her husband’s visage, though, and she reconsidered. This was his world. Here he was the Master. In the weeks of their engagement she had only seen her ‘William‘. He talked about his home and his duties frequently, to the point where she understood much of what life at Pemberley must be like. During that time, the stern commanding presence of ‘Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley’ had faded and she had forgotten that side of him. In all honesty, she had never actually seen that side of him.
She saw it now and experienced a surge of pride. What she had originally deemed haughty arrogance was in reality nobility, authority, power and superior confidence. Here was a man utterly assured of his place in life and his responsibilities. He gave orders and expected them to be carried out without question. With sudden insight she put all the pieces together. How a man of enormous capabilities, absolute command and control over such vast properties and lives, could be laid low by the consuming love for a woman he thought he couldn’t have. How this vulnerability and helplessness would engulf and stagger him. Perhaps to a degree he had needed to be humbled, yet all Lizzy could feel now was fresh pain and thankfulness that he would suffer no more.
She decided immediately that there was no possible way she would remember all their names, so she didn’t really try. There was the kitchen staff, commanded by the iron fist of Mrs. Langton. The footmen, under the authority of Mr. Taylor. The household staff, a dozen maids, answering to Mrs. Reynolds and Miss Jameson. The outside staff, gardeners and maintenance men, led by the Head Groundskeeper, a Mr. Clark. Marguerite, Samuel and Mr. Keith stood off to the side as they were under the direct and only command of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Darcy explained to Elizabeth that the grooms, horse wranglers and stable boys would be introduced later at the stables.
Afterwards they retired to the smaller dining room, the “breakfast room” as Darcy called it. Lizzy was feeling more than a little overwhelmed so was thankful for the reprieve. As soon as they were served the servants exited and shut the doors firmly behind them. They had done the same at dinner last night and it mystified her.
“Do the servants always leave?” she inquired, “At Longbourn they remain in case we need something.”
Darcy reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for an intoxicating kiss to each of her knuckles before tenderly sucking the tip of each finger. “If they remained I would not be able to do this,” he declared with a mischievous grin and a smoldering gaze. Lizzy was breathless and weak. How is it that his eyes on her and one touch of his lips can arouse her so?
Before she lost all restraint, not that she was necessarily adverse to the idea, she flippantly retorted, “Am I to understand that the Master’s commands include keeping me sequestered behind closed doors to be at his disposal?”
He continued to ravage her hand, now having progressed to the sensitive flesh of her palm and inner wrist. “I warned you, Madame, did I not? I desire unfettered access. You should be grateful I permitted you out of our chambers at all today.” His exploring mouth was sending shivers of excitement coursing through her body.
“Does the Master’s absolute control extend to me?” she stammered, finding it extremely difficult to speak.
“Your vows included the promise to obey, my love.” He wormed one finger under her sleeve, pushing it up to her elbow with his lips following. “Do my requirements perturb you, beloved? I would never wish to force unpleasantness upon you.” he asked with a playful nibble to her inner elbow.
“William!” she pleaded, her voice a husky whisper.
He smiled with satisfaction. “Are you begging me to stop, dearest wife, or to carry on?”
“I…..” The truth was she wanted desperately for him to have his way with her right then, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She felt his smile on her skin, and then with one last kiss he released her arm, gently returning her hand to her lap. He met her eyes…. his full of passion and a hint of amusement, hers glazed with forlorn yearning.
“Eat your food, Elizabeth. You will need your strength as I intend to carry you to our bed the second we are finished.” And he did exactly that.
Posted on Thursday, 23 March 2006
That evening, as Elizabeth prepared for dinner, she could not stop smiling. Her happiness was boundless.
Marguerite fussed with her hair, creating a masterpiece arrangement Lizzy would not have thought possible. The only disruption to her joy came when she contemplated her limited wardrobe. Her father had scraped together as much money as he possibly could for she and Jane, however most of it had gone toward their wedding gowns and trousseau. She and Jane had managed to purchase cloth for two dresses each, which they sewed themselves. At the time Lizzy, in her innocence, had deemed this more than adequate. She had never particularly been the type of woman to trouble herself with fashion or style. Her gowns were functional and comfortable. She owned only two fancy gowns, her wedding dress and her white ball gown, however even they now appeared dowdy and plain amidst the splendor of Pemberley.
The question was how to broach the subject with Darcy. She persisted in harboring feelings of embarrassment regarding the topic of his wealth. Should she blatantly solicit money for gowns? She shuddered at the thought.
She decided to wear her burgundy gown. She reached for the pearls but Marguerite interrupted politely suggesting that the rubies would be a preferred accessory.
“Marguerite, I do not own rubies.”
“Begging your pardon, Mrs. Darcy, but you do. I was instructed to relinquish this to your keeping,” and she pulled a small key from her pocket, “It opens the closet with the Darcy jewels. I regret that there has not been the appropriate time. Please forgive me.”
“Of course,” Lizzy murmured, amazed anew. “Which cabinet is it?”
The cabinet was floor to ceiling and about one foot wide. Inside, lying on cushions of velvet, was a staggering assortment of jewelry. Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings, hair clips, broaches and more in every gem she had ever heard of and some she did not recognize. Many of the pieces were quite old and of a style that Elizabeth could never imagine herself wearing, yet they were all exquisite. Her hands trembled as she touched the spectacular ruby necklace which Marguerite indicated. “Could you please assist me Marguerite? I do not think I can manage.”
She stood before the mirror for one last inspection and was started by a deep, sonorous voice. “You are exceptionally captivating tonight, Mrs. Darcy.”
She whirled around to see her husband leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, his eyes lazily exploring her body while an inviting smile danced on his lips. He was wearing a blue coat, naturally, with matching blue breeches and a waistcoat of green with gold stripes. She decided to match his bold inventory of her appearance by doing the same. To her pleasure she noted the increased flame in his eyes. She smiled wickedly, “You surprised me, Mr. Darcy.”
“You assured me I was welcome in your dressing room anytime and that I am not required to knock. Is the offer valid, Madame?”
“Yes, it is, although you might take caution not to sneak so. You are liable to frighten poor Marguerite into a heart seizure” she said with a laugh and a wink to her maid, who had placidly busied herself straightening the vanity.
Marguerite calmly turned toward her Mistress, her face a study in serene indifference, intoning unemotionally, “I warrant my heart is able to withstand the shock, Madame. Will you be requiring my services further, Mrs. Darcy?”
“No, Marguerite, thank you.”
“Very well. Sir….Madame,” and with perfect curtseys, she left.
Lizzy peered at her husband, who remained insolently lounging in the doorway, “You scared her,” she teased, and turned back to the mirror.
“It appears to be a failing of mine,“ he remarked dryly. He came behind her and stroked the curve of her hips before clasping his hands about her waist pulling her against him, nibbling along her neck at the same time.
“You are so beautiful, Elizabeth. I love you immensely.” She could feel his heat, his desire and love for her.
She melted against his body. “Have you not yet gotten enough of me, Mr. Darcy?” she sassed, “Have I not satisfied you sufficiently?”
“You have satisfied me, my heart, lavishly and in ways previously undreamed of. But, enough? No, there is no risk of me ever reaching a state of over saturation. Your love, your existence in my life is as crucial as food and air.” He ceaselessly kissed and caressed her as he spoke. “I see you found the jewelry cabinet. The rubies are lovely on you, or rather your beauty augments their loveliness.”
“Perhaps it is merely an odd coincidence, however it seems that you are forever attempting to delay our meals with your amorous attentions.”
“The fault is entirely yours, my wife, for being such a temptress. I am only a man and cannot be expected to control myself when confronted with such succulent delights before me.”
“Why, Mr. Darcy, I was under the mistaken impression you were a gentleman!”
He laughed and turned her around, taking her face into his hands, “I see I have accomplished my goal of deceiving you. Would a gentleman do this?” he asked, and claimed her mouth in a kiss of incredible depth and implication. When he at last pulled away, it was to see his wife’s face suffused with passion, her eyes half open and her breath shallow. He gazed upon her, mightily thrilled at his ability to inflame her.
Eventually she calmed enough to meet his eyes. “No, my husband, I believe you are not a gentleman, and I cannot express how happy that makes me!”
Darcy smiled and kissed the tip of her pert nose. "Come, Mrs. Darcy, let us not delay our meal any longer. I can survive in the knowledge that I may not be a perfect gentleman but perish the thought that I am a brute who starves his wife!" He offered her his arm and led her out the door.
They passed the door to his dressing room and Lizzy started giggling. "What have I done now to amuse you, my love?" Darcy asked.
Still laughing, Lizzy replied, "I had a sudden vision of barging into your dressing room, which is only fair I might add, and catching you in a state of undress. How would your valet respond to that?"
Darcy smiled, "Samuel is exceedingly prim and proper, and unmarried. I believe I have upset him enough these past two days by not adhering to my strict schedule and usual decorum. He probably would suffer a heart seizure!" He glanced at his grinning wife. "Are you giving me fair warning, my love? If so I should prepare Samuel for the eventual improprieties of my wife. He is an excellent valet and I would hate to lose him."
Lizzy lifted her chin impudently. "Prepare him as you see fit, Mr. Darcy, but do not expect any fair warnings from me. Sneaking and surprising are the rules of this game."
Dinner, naturally, was delicious. The servants left the room, returning with the next courses only when Darcy rang for them, but he kept his seat and did not torture his poor wife. They were both quite happy so the atmosphere was lively.
"Dare I inquire, dear husband, what the itinerary is for the rest of the evening? Or had you planned a recap of our after lunch activity?" she asked with a playful flutter of her lashes.
Darcy lifted one eyebrow, "Said activity is never far from my mind, dearest, however, I am willing to ponder alternative pursuits provided you are involved."
"William, I would like to take a walk. We have been cooped up all day, marvelous as it has been," she gazed at him warmly and caressed his knee, "nevertheless, I am feeling the need for some fresh air."
He rose and bowed gallantly, "I am yours to command, beloved. A walk it shall be."
They exited the dining room and discovered the butler standing at attention. He bowed, "Mr. Darcy.... Mrs. Darcy. Sir, I have an envelope that Mr. Keith gave me to convey to you when you finished dining." He handed Darcy a large envelope, which Darcy glanced at quickly, seeming instantly to glean the contents.
"Thank you Mr. Taylor. Would you please place this on my desk for now? Could you then please ensure the terrace lamps are lit and retrieve coats and gloves for Mrs. Darcy and myself? We will be in the gallery."
"At once Sir," and with another bow to them each, he left.
Darcy took her hand and led her to the gallery. Lizzy had not been in this room since her visit in September and had almost forgotten how astounding the works of art were. There was so much beauty in this one room that she imagined one could never fully absorb it all. Darcy strolled along side her, offering insights and history into several of the pieces. He told her that it was his grandfather who had first began collecting the marble statues after he and Darcy's grandmother had taken a trip to Italy. His father had acquired a few pieces but it was Darcy who was specially stirred by sculpture. More than half the pieces were attained by him. He was so enamored with the art form that he had insisted on a bust of Georgiana. She had agreed but finagled him to also have a bust made of himself, hence the result of the image Lizzy now stood in front of.
Lizzy was as enraptured by the image now as she had been three months ago. It fascinated her how cold stone could appear so alive. How is it possible to capture his beauty, strength and gentleness in a rock? Darcy had been distracted by a footman bringing their coats so was surprised to see his wife staring so intently at his likeness.
Lizzy was mesmerized. She sensed his presence near her, and said dreamily, "Your face was the cause of my separation from Mrs. Reynolds and my Aunt and Uncle. I could not look away. I know now that I was already hopelessly in love with you but I had not admitted it to myself. Being here at Pemberley, surrounded by the beauty of your home, focused my tumultuous emotions. However, it was as I beheld this," she reached up and brushed the shimmering cheeks and lips of the bust, "your face so gentle and loving even in stone, taunting me it seemed with a fond gaze that I desperately wished to be favored with..... I knew then that I loved you."
She turned to him, his flesh and blood face so close to her own, those impossible blue eyes piercing her soul, his countenance resplendent with emotion. He cupped her face in his hands, caressing his thumbs over her cheeks. He opened his mouth as if to speak but words failed him. He swallowed, tears threatening to spill. Lizzy linked her hands behind his neck, drawing him to her. "I love you, my darling, with all my soul," she whispered. They kissed then, a slow, tender kiss not of passion but of deep faithfulness and belonging. He enfolded her in his arms, embracing her securely.
Eventually Darcy spoke, “Shall we stroll in the moonlight, my heart? It is cold out tonight so I shall have ready excuses to hold you and kiss you to keep you warm.”
She laughed, “As if you need valid excuses.”
It was a cold night but clear with the moon at three-quarters and bright. Billions of stars were visible. They walked leisurely, hand in hand, along the terrace which ran the length of the manor. Several stone benches and secluded alcoves with arbors of trailing vines were spaced. Occasional steps leading to darkened paths interrupted the railing. Darcy unerringly led her down one such trail lined by a garden of rose bushes, currently without blooms of course. The gravel passageway twisted and turned until finally terminating at a clearing with a large gurgling fountain of four sea nymphs pouring water from pitchers. The fragrance of winter blooms of narcissus, hyacinth, jasmine, and camellia filled the air.
Darcy sat on the edge of the fountain and pulled Elizabeth onto his lap. He wrapped his large overcoat about her and she nestled into his chest. “I love gazing at the stars,” Darcy remarked softly, “The immensity of the universe with the vastness of space and uncountable heavenly bodies, so outside our control and power. What is man compared to such awesome magnificence? It is a humbling experience to note ones insignificance.”
“’Miserable mortals who, like leaves, at one moment flame with life and at another moment weakly perish.*’” Lizzy quoted.
Darcy smiled, “’Humility, that low sweet root from which all Heavenly virtues shoot.**’”
They continued to play the quote game but Darcy proved the victor. Lizzy laughed, conceding defeat, then arose to walk about the flowers. Darcy sat in complete contentment watching his lovely wife in the moonlight.
“When Jane and I were younger we would sometimes steal out at night when all were asleep. We would lie on a blanket under the stars and talk about our dreams.”
“What do young girls dream of?”
She giggled, “Handsome princes on gallant white steeds charging in to whisk us off to crystal castles with spires reaching to the heavens.”
“Alas, my steed is black and Pemberley has no spires. Pity that your dreams have been dashed.”
“Well, at least the handsome part is true so I shall endeavor to overcome my acute disappointment.” She had picked several fragrant buds, tucking them in her hair and at her bosom. Lastly she snipped a strand of jasmine, weaving it into a garland. She approached her husband, still sitting on the fountain’s edge, and crowned his head with the aromatic adornment. “Now you are a prince,” she teased, “two out of four is tolerable.”
Darcy clasped her legs to pull her onto his lap again, but she danced lightly away, her tinkling laugh ringing. “If you desire to whisk me away, my prince, you must catch me first!” She gave a merry chase but his longer legs proved his asset and he caught her at last.
The devious gleam in her eyes should have warned him. He leaned down to kiss her but she moved in quickly and securely caught his lower lip with her teeth. She nibbled tenderly, running the tip of her tongue along his lip, sucking slightly. Her hands were not idle, firmly stroking up his thighs and over his hips, her fingers barely brushing his most sensitive regions.
Darcy had never experienced anything like it. How did she know to do this? She was intoxicating and he was instantly excited. His befuddled mind relaxed his grip and she scurried away, dashing down the path toward the house, her effervescent voice floating back to him, “Revenge is sweet, beloved!”
He groaned in misery then laughed, remembering his satisfied gloating at lunch and in her dressing room. He followed slowly, needing the distance to restore his irregular heartbeat. When he reached the terrace he could see her moving about in his study. He entered and she was standing placidly by his desk an expression of contrition on her face, although with Lizzy penitence is as equally suspect as naughtiness. She came to him, softly placing her hands on his chest, and in a little girl voice asked, “Still love me?”
“More than ever,” he answered, bestowing a kiss to her forehead, cheek, nose, chin and finally her lips.
She smiled brightly. “This is your study, is it not?” He nodded. “I wondered if it was, when I was here in September.” She flushed in embarrassment. “I did not read anything but I saw papers with your handwriting and your seal. I could picture you sitting at that desk, working. It is a beautiful room, William.”
“Have a seat, Elizabeth. Since we are here I have something to discuss with you.” She did as he asked as he retrieved the envelope given to him earlier by Mr. Taylor, then he sat beside her taking her hands. “I recognize that discussions of my wealth are uncomfortable to you, my love, and I appreciate that as it is further proof of your true reasons for marrying me.” He smiled at her. “Nonetheless, we cannot ignore the facts nor can I discount my responsibilities to you as my wife. When I was in London last, I had my solicitor draw up legal documents regarding my will and settlement for you. That is what is in this envelope. The exact details can be deliberated later. The gist is this: When I die, a settlement of thirty-thousand pounds will be yours, along with a yearly income of three-thousand pounds. Pemberley will forever be open to you as your home, as will Darcy House in London. Ownership of Pemberley will pass to our eldest son with further details regarding future children to be decided on when the time comes.”
Lizzy was stunned. Darcy smoothed her cheek and kissed her softly. “For the present, since I selfishly intend to live a very long time to love you, I have set aside a monthly allowance for your personal use. The intention is not to prohibit what you spend but to render easy access to funds as you need them without requiring you to solicit me or Mr. Keith. The bills will be kept in a locked box in that cabinet over there. If at any time you need or want something beyond what monies you have available, you must only ask. Do you understand so far?” She nodded, speechless.
He continued, “Household funds are in a separate account. In time I and Mrs. Reynolds will teach you how it all operates. As I have assured you, dearest, I am making no demands. Pemberley is a very complicated estate and it will take you time to learn it all, if you even chose to do so. All you must understand now is that any decorating you wish to do or furniture you wish to purchase, that sort of thing, is not a personal but a household expense. The monies are limited, I am not the King after all,” he laughed, “however, you would have to be excessively extravagant to seriously jeopardize the estate.”
“Lastly, you are aware that I have a decorator arriving next week, should be Wednesday. On Monday I have arranged an appointment for you with a dressmaker in Lambton. Her name is Madame du Loire and she has fashioned many of Georgiana’s gowns. Mrs. Reynolds suggested this course. I hope it meets with your approval, dearest?”
“William, I truly do not know what to say. You are so conscientious and far too generous! You continually stagger me at your ability to contemplate my needs. Thank you!”
“Elizabeth, you flatter me with your kind words. Business I comprehend easily. Women’s necessities are still much a mystery to me. We must educate each other. As always, Mrs. Reynolds and Georgiana, when she returns later this month, will be your principal resources. They know what is available in the region and what should be obtained from Town. Now, enough of that!” He stood up briskly and locked the envelope safely in his desk. “I am overcome with the urgent yearning to unwind with my wife in our sitting room. To hold her in my arms reminding her of my fervent love, devotion, ardor, and happiness. Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?”
When Lizzy entered their sitting room, comfortable and resplendent in her night gown and robe, Darcy was already reclining on the chaise lounge before the fire. He had an open book in his hand and momentarily did not hear her, so engrossed was he. She smiled. He had finally given up reading the book he had labored over during their engagement and had succumbed to the reality that reading was out of the question for the time being. It was refreshing and heartwarming to see him content and able to relax.
She settled herself between his legs, her back tight against his chest. He entwined his legs with hers and hugged her close, one arm over her shoulders with his hand resting between her breasts. He kissed the top of her head and told her he loved her. Lizzy could honestly say she had never been happier in her entire life. He began reading aloud and his melodic voice soothed her.
Darcy became aware that his wife had fallen asleep when he asked her a question and she remained silent. “Elizabeth?” he whispered, but there was no response. It was not precisely the ending to the evening he had envisioned, yet oddly the fulfillment of having his wife’s warm body in his arms was intensely gratifying in its own way. He held her for a long time, until the fire had died to embers, listening to her breathe and feeling her vitality. Carefully as not to wake her, he carried her to their bed. He stretched out beside her, marveling how even in her sleep she came to him, nestling close.
*Homer, The Iliad **Thomas Moore