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An Anniversary

Posted on Sunday, 26 March 2006

The next several days passed in much the same manner. Lizzy and Darcy were together almost twenty-four hours a day, and they were incredibly blissful.

While they lounged in bed on their second morning at Pemberley, their fourth day of marriage, Lizzy confessed with some embarrassment her actions the previous morning when she had awoken without him by her side. He laughed out loud, which she considered blatantly unfair.

“Forgive me, beloved, however I had this vision of you running through the halls in your night gown. I venture to speculate that any fright I might have given poor Marguerite yesterday would pale in comparison to the panic amongst the house staff at that sight!”

“You beast!” and she hit him with a pillow, which lead to him grasping her wrists to stop her, which lead to them kissing several times. When she came up for air she continued the topic. “I was going to apologize for hammering you into the doorway yesterday but now I think of it, it is your entire fault anyway so I shall not.”

“How do you reason it is my fault?”

“You should never have left me in the first place!” she declared with a pout. “You have set the standard, Mr. Darcy, by being entirely too wonderful, so your desertion was an overwhelming shock. My feeble wits could not handle it and I acted precipitously. Your bruises are therefore the penalty for your cruelty. Nonetheless, I shall be magnanimous and will even kiss your aches away. Turn over,” she commanded.

She actually was surprised and remorseful to note a small bruise over his mid spine, which she dutifully kissed. However, she was more taken at the pleasing sight of her husband’s backside. Using all the strength she could muster, she massaged his shoulders, back and derriere. Darcy moaned with pleasure, his eyes closed. As expected, her innocent conduct eventually took on a decidedly sensual flavor and the resulting occupation was mutually exhilarating.

If the journeys varied, the destination was the same. It was a beautiful period of discovery for them both. As they explored each other’s bodies and grew daily more aware of their own sensibilities, their intimate relationship blossomed into a fullness and union of souls unreservedly profound. As the initial days turned into the first week, the last vestiges of any embarrassment or awkwardness totally disappeared. At times they were playful. Other times they were serious and tender. Sometimes they were swept away with their passionate hunger. Yet always they were moved by the melding of their spirits, the harmony, and the love which defied logic by growing deeper with each passing day.

Once they emerged from their chambers, it was rarely with any particular destination in mind. They simply wanted to be together. Their keenest desire was to learn more about how the other thought and felt. The intimate nature of their communication evolved as they each had suspected it would once they were married. Darcy no longer suffered the pain of his loneliness and grief. Wounded areas of his heart were unearthed and healed, some of which he was ignorant even existed. The past no longer haunted him and he was able to remember and share the happy memories without the instantaneous ache of his sadness overwhelming him. As for Lizzy, she gave herself to him wholly. Her rigid independence, her self reliance, and need to prove herself all shattered before the force of his love. To be essential to another human being, to be vulnerable, to have another assign themselves generously and selflessly is the ultimate expression of true love, and they understood how lucky they were.

Most days they moseyed around Pemberley. Slowly Lizzy began to acquaint herself with the manor’s layout. Darcy was correct in stating that it really was not that confusing. The hallways were setup in a linear fashion and the rooms universally square or rectangular. Perhaps not overly imaginative, but easy to navigate. By the end of her first week as Mistress she was confident enough to wander on her own around the main floor, which she did on those few occasions when Darcy was busy with a business matter. Nonetheless, she was constantly amazed and, frankly, significantly intimidated by the vastness of the house and by the plethora of art, furnishings, history, wealth and beauty that Pemberley housed. The more she saw, the more in awe she was by the responsibilities her husband carried on his broad shoulders.

The staff was mysteriously everywhere and yet unobtrusive at the same time. Lizzy never once actually witnessed a maid cleaning yet the manor was spotless. Footman materialized magically when Darcy needed one then vanished as speedily. Darcy greatly impressed Lizzy by knowing the name of each of them, always making eye contact, and unfailingly inserting “please” and “thank you” into each command. The staff’s devotion to their Master and Pemberley was apparent in their manner and in the pristine condition of the house.

Lizzy had learned much of the estate’s interests during her engagement. Darcy’s pride and pleasure regarding Pemberley was unmistakable. Unwittingly, his conversations about his home, both then and now, had given Lizzy tremendous insight into the business affairs that her husband managed. She knew that his income stemmed from not only Pemberley itself but also investments, trade, and industrial and commercial enterprises both in England and abroad. Nonetheless, the bulk of the estate’s income came from agriculture, livestock, and horse breeding. The farm lands were extensive and offered varying products, including fruit orchards, grains and cotton. Two mills utilized the power of the River Derwent to process the grains and cotton. Livestock consisted primarily of sheep with a few goats and wandering fowl. The wild game were generally left unmolested except for the occasional hunting parties Darcy allowed and, of course, for their own table.

All of these aspects of Pemberley’s business were handled efficiently and dutifully by her husband. However, Lizzy had rapidly established that his heart lay with his horses. Darcy was a horseman through and through. He confessed to her that if it were possible he would happily transmit all his responsibilities to someone else and immerse his energies into breeding and training the fine horses of Pemberley.

Thus it was that on Lizzy’s second day, Darcy enthusiastically escorted her to the stables. The complex which accommodated the horses, carriages and equipment, and the massive staff necessary was only slightly smaller than the main house. The Thoroughbreds were separated from the working horses, each with their own handlers and grooms. The weather had taken an abrupt turn for the worse. Ominous clouds hovered on the horizon and Darcy assured Lizzy that it would snow by that evening. Despite the cold, the grooms were about their duties. They acknowledged Darcy’s presence and, as always, Darcy addressed each of them by name.

Lizzy did not ride and was actually quite frightened of horses in general. That is not to say she did not value the beauty and majesty of the species, and it was immediately apparent even to her uneducated eyes that the Thoroughbreds of Pemberley were magnificent. Darcy seemed intimately acquainted with each one of them. Parsifal, naturally, had the best stall and was visited by his Master first. Treats were given and he was again introduced to Lizzy, who overcame her fear enough to stroke his soft nose.

Darcy knew of Lizzy’s apprehension, so thought it best to take her to the new colt first. Who could not fall in love with a baby? They arrived just as one of the grooms was about to feed the young animal. Darcy assumed the task and encouraged Lizzy to assist him. One look into the playful, sweet face of the foal and she was captured. Before long she was kneeling in the straw, Darcy beside her, holding onto the makeshift milk bladder and nipple while the colt suckled. It was a fantastic experience.

Next he took her outside to the training pen where a staggeringly feisty stallion was actively being broken. Heedless of what anyone might think, Darcy pulled Elizabeth against his chest, wrapping her with his thick greatcoat. Holding her tight to keep her warm in the gathering gloom, he explained the process unfolding in the corral. Elizabeth was both fascinated and horrified.

“It looks to be rather dangerous,” she said.

“Yes, it can be. The stallions are incredibly strong and unpredictable. One must attain the perfect balance between harboring that strength and controlling it.”

“And you do this William? You get in there with these perilous animals?”

“When I can. Unfortunately my duties do not allow me the freedom I would wish to be consistently hands on.”

“Well, I am glad for that! It terrifies me to think of you in there. Have you ever been hurt?”

“No more than an occasional bruise or the wind knocked out of me. Once I had a mild concussion after being thrown.”

Lizzy shuddered. She wished she could forbid him doing something she considered so reckless, but she had no right. And one look at the intense emotion on his face as he watched the trainer at work, and she knew she would never wish him deprived of a pastime he so enthusiastically enjoyed. For his sake she would exhibit interest in the stables and the world contained therein, but it would never be easy for her.

As Darcy predicted, the rain and then snow hit that evening. The weather made exploring the extensive grounds impossible for the present. Instead, Darcy took her to the top floor and pointed to features visible from the windows. The panoramic vista was breathtaking. Pemberley Manor rested on a hill so from this height the horizon stretched for seemingly endless miles. She saw the pastures, orchards, and forest lay out like a patchwork quilt. She had a bird’s eye view of the incredible and varied gardens, the Maze, the ponds and streams, the trout lake with fountains, and the Cascade waterfall with Greek Temple barely discernible above. In September she had strolled through a couple of the gardens closest to the house, but her emotions had been so taut and her sensibilities so acutely affected by the man next to her, that she scarcely recollected any of it.

Now they stood before the tall window, Lizzy enfolded in Darcy’s strong arms, watching the snow gently blanket the earth and vegetation far below. Darcy’s lips were near her ear, intermittently planting soft kisses as he spoke.

“Up above the Greek Temple is a secluded grotto,” he told her, “There is a tiny pool sheltered by tall pines, elder and willows. The pool is fed from underground so is perpetually tranquil, acting as a mirror. The trees and bushes are so thick that when you enter it is as if you have been transported to another world. When I was a child I would escape there with a book or my journal or nothing, just wanting to be alone. I would pretend I had magically left Earth for Mars or Jupiter. I even attempted to write a story once, relaying my adventures as the conqueror of this other planet.” He laughed and Lizzy smiled at the vision of Darcy as a young boy. “I do not know what ever happened to that story, although I would surely be mortified if it was unearthed!”

He tightened his grip around his wife and continued, “I had not visited the grotto for years until this past June. After Rosings and then attempting to drown my sorrow in London and too much brandy, I returned to Pemberley. The first place I thought of was the grotto, which surprised me after so many years, but I went again and again as if compelled. I did my best self analysis there. As you know, beloved, I did not expect to ever have you in my life, to be given this chance to prove my love to you. I only wished to become a better man, to learn from my mistakes. The peace which pervades that place soothed me beyond words. I remember musing once, fleetingly so as not to hope where no hope seemed forthcoming, that if I ever was so blessed as to earn your love, I would take you there. It would become our special place. I only wish the weather allowed me to do so now, but I must content myself with fantasies until the spring.”

He smiled down at her. She brought her hand up to caress his face, meeting his loving and intense gaze. She grasped his neck and pulled his head to her, meeting his lips with a hungry kiss. She turned in his arms and encircled his waist, pressing her body to his. She whispered against his mouth, “So, describe to me these grotto fantasies. Or better yet, employ this gift for pretending you appear to possess and show me, right here and right now.”

Darcy did not hesitate. In quick long strides he crossed the room, locked the door, and returned to her arms. Between kisses and increasingly indulgent and fervent caresses he painted a picture of hanging branches with dappled sunlight leaking through, gentle breezes, a soft grass carpet, the heady aroma of earth and pine and wild honeysuckle. If the room was cold, neither of them felt it, the heat they generated abundantly adequate.

These pleasant diversions during the long cold afternoons were not an unusual occurrence. Pemberley was a very large house and aside for the servants, who were under strict orders to discreetly vacate any room the Master and Mistress entered, Darcy and Lizzy were alone. Darcy was discovering the sublime exhilaration of making love to his wife outside their bedchamber. Nothing quite compared to the comfort of their bed nor the rapture of cuddling afterwards and falling asleep in each other‘s embrace. However, there was an element of naughtiness and danger attached when they were elsewhere that was intoxicating and tremendously arousing to them both. They understood that these dalliances would become a rare event once Georgiana returned, so they recklessly luxuriated in the activity now.

On the fourth day of Lizzy's residence at Pemberley she was alone in her parlor waiting impatiently for Darcy, who was discussing a business proposal with Mr. Keith. She was standing by the window watching the snow falling when Mrs. Reynolds knocked at the open door.

"Pardon me, Mrs. Darcy, am I disturbing you?"

"Of course not Mrs. Reynolds. Please come in."

"Mr. Darcy asked me to discuss the Christmas arrangements with you."

"Oh! Very well. Please sit down. How can I help you?"

"Christmas for the past several years has been a quiet affair. Mr. Darcy prefers this as does Miss Darcy. Usually a few guests are invited, Mr. Bingley and his sisters on occasion, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and twice Lord and Lady Matlock have graced us. Now that you have joined the family, Mr. Darcy requested that you have the final authority on who was invited as well as the arrangements and festivities."

"I see." Lizzy hesitated. "The truth is, Mrs. Reynolds, I have given minimal much thought to Christmas, my mind being focused on my wedding and not getting lost in the corridors! I rather imagined the holiday would proceed as Mr. Darcy and Miss Georgiana have traditionally done so. I will confer with Mr. Darcy regarding the guest list and proffer the invitations. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to the usual festivities?"

"Certainly," and she launched into a detailed report of a typical Pemberley Christmas. After a half hour, Lizzy had a great deal to ponder. She told Mrs. Reynolds that she would talk to Mr. Darcy and meet with her again tomorrow. While Mrs. Reynolds was there, Lizzy enlisted her assistance in another matter she had been brooding on. It was the first time she and the housekeeper had said more than a few words to each other, and although the conversation did not result in much decision making, Lizzy still felt as if she had taken a small step toward assuming her role as Mistress of Pemberley.

Two days later Lizzy was awoken by the sensation of something velvety with a lovely aroma brushing across her face. She opened her eyes to see her husband's handsome face hovering over her. His jubilantly dimpled smile, sparkling blue eyes, and disheveled hair were enough to instantly set her heart racing. It took her a moment to realize that he held a pink rose in his hands and it was this which he was gently tickling her face with.

"Happy anniversary, my precious wife," he declared in his rich, musical voice. "Elizabeth my love... my light... my heart... my pearl... my lover... my Lizzy." He unceasingly grazed her face, neck and shoulders with the rose, sprinkling kisses between his endearments. "One week ago today you made me the happiest of men, Mrs. Darcy, my beloved." He kissed her deeply then, pulling her body onto his, caressing her back with his hand and the flower.

“My husband, I note you are wearing your trousers. Under the present circumstances is this not a ludicrous encumbrance?” she tantalized, planting nibbles to his neck.

“Nothing that cannot be easily rectified, my love.” He laughed. “I did not think it wise of me to traipse to the conservatory unclothed. The staff has been shocked enough lately at my lack of modesty and propriety.”

“You went to the conservatory this morning?” she asked with slight alarm.

“I needed to pick this for you,” he touched her adorable nose with the rose, “and those as well.” He waved his hand about the room and the five vases of varied flowers scattered about the chamber.

Lizzy sat up in bed, unconscious of the heavenly sight she presented to her husband, and smiled radiantly at the array of blooms. She turned her smile onto Darcy, devastating him further with love and desire, and teased, “You are doing it again, Mr. Darcy. Being entirely too fabulous, spoiling me beyond endurance, and setting the standard so high that you may exhaust yourself in an effort to surpass the foregoing pinnacle!”

He rose and kissed her quickly on the cheek. “Let me worry about that,” he responded, then left the bed before her beguiling charms drove further thought away. He returned from his dressing room swiftly with an enormous box, which he place on the bed in front of her.

“William, you must cease buying me gifts! I do not require such gestures.”

“Whether you require them or not is irrelevant, Mrs. Darcy. I will shower you with presents because I am entirely egocentric and I extract pleasure from admiring your happy face! Humor me, if nothing else.”

She pretended a scowl, but could not maintain it for long. She opened the box and gasped in shock. She pulled out an ankle length pelisse of russet wool, lined and edged with sable. It was by far the most exquisite garment she had ever owned. With a squeal of glee she robustly hugged her husband, then stood up on the bed, wrapping herself in the lush softness of the coat. The luxuriant contact of the fur on her bare skin was positively vivifying. She pranced seductively about the bed, making Darcy smile and laugh aloud.

“You see,” he gushed, “the pleasure is wholly mine. I am selfishly overcome with joy.” He clutched her legs and drew her onto his lap. “Now let me see what other self-serving indulgences I can secure.”

Just prior to noon Lizzy sat in Darcy’s study while he worked at his desk. She pretended to read a book, but was more fascinated with inspecting her husband. A small crease sat between his brows as he concentrated. He rolled the quill in his fingers and rubbed his chin when ruminating. Occasionally his lips would silently mouth the words on the document before him. Frequently he would sigh or harrumph or aah or curse or grumble, without being aware he did so. Lizzy adored simply observing him, learning more about him in these unconscious mannerisms.

A knock at the door led to the entrance of Mr. Keith, who requested a moment of Mr. Darcy’s time. With alacrity, and a thankful wink to Mr. Keith, Lizzy rose and left the two gentlemen alone. Mrs. Reynolds stood outside the door. “Is everything ready?” Lizzy asked.

“As you requested, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Thank you!” and with a brief squeeze to Mrs. Reynolds’ hands, Lizzy flew up to her dressing room where Marguerite was waiting.

About forty-five minutes later, Mr. Darcy emerged from his study and asked a footman where Mrs. Darcy could be found and was told that she was in the conservatory. Darcy walked speedily, already lamenting the absence of his wife. He called to her when he entered and her voice came from the far side of the room. He made his way around the profusion of potted plants and trees. The tableau before him stopped him dead in his tracks.

A clearing had been made and a picnic area arranged, basket and all. Elizabeth stood, wearing her lightest muslin summer gown with only a thin chemise underneath, and satin lawn slippers. Her hair was down with the side strands twisted into an elaborate braid in back. The warmth of the conservatory, the aroma of the blooms, the sunlight shining through the ceiling and walls of glass, along with the blanket on the floor created the perfect summer scenario.

“Happy anniversary, Fitzwilliam!” Lizzy approached her stunned husband and without preamble began unbuttoning his coat. “I know it is a poor substitute for your grotto, so we must pretend.” She lay his coat aside then kissed him. “I could not forget the day you made me the happiest woman in the world, my love. One whole week you have tolerated me! You have earned a medal but instead you will only get lunch. Now sit and take off your boots. I shall serve our food.”

Lizzy also had a gift for her husband. “It is rather silly,” she blushingly remarked when she handed him the small box. “I did not have the foresight to buy a real gift for you. Instead I recalled an inane French novel I read when I was a girl, a poorly written romantic piece of tripe. There was this one thing I thought sweet, in my girlish idea of romance.”

Darcy opened the box and saw a small satin pouch with a drawstring closure. “Look inside,” Lizzy said, biting her lip in nervousness. He pulled out a long slender tress of her silky hair which had been braided and tied on each end with fine thread. “You see,” she explained, “now you will permanently have a small part of me with you even if I am not there.”

He stared at her in unbelief. “You thought this was silly? This is…. Astounding! Elizabeth I do not have the words!” He kissed her tenderly and held her chin with his fingers. “My love, I resort to buying gifts because it is what I am accustomed to. You look inward to your heart and give far more generously than I. I will cherish this and bear it with me for all my life. I so love you Elizabeth.”

It was a lovely afternoon. There is something mysterious about picnics, even inside ones, that immediately cause one to feel mellow and whimsical. One week of wedded bliss and they both already had scores of memories to record into their journals, not that either of them would ever forget the passion and joy of these first days.

Shopping!

Posted on Sunday, 26 March 2006

Monday arrived and Lizzy was slightly ashamed but she could not deny her excitement. Never in her entire life had she been able to shop without worry for the cost. She still was not too sure she could manage it, but she intended to try. Darcy seemed as eager as she was. She had learned early in their engagement that he adored buying gifts for those he loved. Herself, of course, but also for Georgiana and even his cousin Fitzwilliam. He was almost absentminded about it, simply seeing something that he knew they would enjoy and purchasing it on the spot. It was endearing.

Although she felt somewhat like a child let loose in a candy store, she understood that her excursion today was necessary. Each day as she wandered about Pemberley the awareness of her new station in life became apparent. If for no other reason than to make her husband proud that he had married the simply country girl, she would present herself as exactly what society demanded from the Mistress of Pemberley.

She wore her new pelisse over her gown, feeling more regal than she ever had. She tucked a wad of her pin money into her reticule, just in case, and met her smiling husband in the foyer.

First they had lunch at the Carriage Inn, one of Lambton oldest and most prominent establishments. Lizzy blushed initially at the amount of stares her appearance on the arm of Mr. Darcy engendered, but his air of indifference and obvious pride at her gracing his side, calmed her. She was introduced to several people, all of whom had heard of Mr. Darcy’s marriage. “Word travels quickly in these small communities as you well know Elizabeth,” he whispered.

After lunch Darcy and Lizzy walked to Madame du Loire’s boutique. Along the way they encountered an older, distinguished gentleman who approached the Darcys with a broad grin.

“Why, Mr. Darcy! How fortunate I am to meet you so unexpectedly. This must be the Mrs. Darcy we are all hearing about.” He bowed deeply to Lizzy. He had a very open face and Lizzy found herself liking him immediately.

“Mr. Vernon,” Darcy replied with a happy smile, “You are correct. This is my wife, Mrs. Darcy. Mrs. Darcy may I introduce you to our closest neighbor, Mr. Henry Vernon of Sudbury Hall.”

Lizzy curtseyed. “Mr. Vernon, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you Mrs. Darcy, however I must insist that the pleasure is entirely all mine. I am certain that Darcy has warned you that the rumors of your grace and beauty have preceded your entry to our little community. Now I shall be able to brag to all that I have beheld you first and can glowingly proclaim that the rumors pale in comparison to the truth before me.”

Lizzy was a bit shocked at Mr. Vernon’s ebullient charm and assumed Darcy would be miffed, so she was further surprised to hear him laugh boomingly. “It sunders my heart to disappoint you, my old friend, but we dined at the Carriage Inn and I was honored to introduce my lovely wife to a number of the denizens of Lambton. Tell me, Vernon, how much have you scoundrels wagered on whom would espy my wife first?”

Mr. Vernon feigned indignation, “Darcy, you wound me, Sir! A true gentleman would never wager on such a thing.” His words, however, were denied by the wink he gave to Lizzy and by Darcy’s continued laughing.

Darcy turned to his wife, who was beginning to find the entire encounter extremely amusing. “You see, my love, Lambton offers little in the ways of diversion so the gentlemen frequently resort to petty indulgences to offset the boredom. I know for a fact that there has been a long standing wager as to when I would enter the esteemed state of matrimony and to which society lady it would be. How did those bets turn out, Vernon? Any luck, my friend?”

Vernon assumed a visage of tremendous mourning. “Mr. Creswell won on the age. There was some debate since you were eight and twenty when you became betrothed, but the wager was for age at marriage, so Creswell edged out Sir Coke. Sadly for us all, although undoubtedly happily and wisely for you and Mrs. Darcy,” he bowed again to Lizzy, “you ventured outside London society, a move none of us anticipated.”

Lizzy laughed, “I do not believe my husband anticipated it either, Mr. Vernon. His chagrin was tremendous, let me assure you.” With a twinkle she glanced at her husband. “He fought valiantly against it but in the end us ladies usually achieve what we want, is that not true Mr. Vernon?”

“Most definitely, Mrs. Darcy. When it comes to matters of the heart, the fairer sex has the distinct advantage.”

“My wife is far too generous, Vernon. She led me on a merry chase of which I was all too delighted to engage.” He briefly kissed Elizabeth’s hand, “The prize was well worth the effort.” Darcy was beaming and Vernon could not mistake the looks shared with his wife as anything other than the deepest love. Vernon had been a great friend to Darcy’s father and his son had been a childhood playmate of Darcy’s. The families were close so it warmed Vernon’s heart to see the young man finally so happy.

Darcy turned his attention back to Vernon and clapped him on the shoulder. “It brings joy to my heart to know I have disrupted the club. By the way, were you heading there now?”

“As a matter of fact I am.”

Darcy nodded. “I am escorting Mrs. Darcy to Madame du Loire’s. I will meet you shortly for a game of billiards?”

Mr. Vernon winced, “I do not think I have quite recovered my pride from your last thrashing at billiards, Darcy.” He addressed Lizzy, “Your husband is the champion billiard player in all of Derbyshire, Mrs. Darcy. Last summer was the first time I have ever known anyone to beat him, and then it took Mr. Hughes, our next best player, to do it.”

Darcy scowled and glanced at his wife, “I was distracted most of last summer with personal matters and Hughes caught me on an off day.”

Vernon smiled, completely misapprehending Darcy’s reference, “Yes, I imagine you were distracted and we now all comprehend the reason. Mrs. Darcy, my wife and the other ladies of Derbyshire are anxious to meet you. As soon as Mr. Darcy is willing to share you, you must dine with us.”

“Thank you Mr. Vernon. I shall look forward to it.”

Lizzy spent the entire afternoon up to her eyeballs in fabrics finer than any she had ever owned. Madame du Loire missed nothing. Darcy had been abundantly clear that she was to be outfitted fully, top to bottom. By the end of the day she had three new gowns quickly tailored to her dimensions by the seamstresses in attendance and another two dozen gowns to be made. There were new slippers, boots, night wear, undergarments, stockings, bonnets and hats, spencers and pelisses, gloves, and more. The focus was winter wear, naturally, so the fabrics were heavy wools and velvets with fur for warmth.

Madame du Loire was a genius. Lizzy had often lamented her…. shall we say, less that curvy figure. She was not generally the type to follow fashion nor was she particularly vain. Nonetheless, with sisters as full and lush as hers are, Lizzy could not help but notice the obvious difference in her own form. Her mother had frequently mournfully commented on Lizzy’s overly svelte physique, loudly bemoaning it as a probable deterrent to any man finding her attractive. All her young adult life, Lizzy had scoffed at her mother’s words, but deep inside she had harbored feelings of inadequacy.

Darcy’s wanton approbation of her body, his frank and blatant intoxication with her feminine shape had erased most of her uncertainties. Even so, she was amazed and delighted at the skill Madame du Loire employed to enhance her limited assets and accentuate her attributes. She taught Lizzy how to utilize corsets and gathers and lace and numerous other things to present a more pleasing and alluring vision. Considering her husband’s already overwhelming amorousness for her, Lizzy was not totally sure this was a wise plan! Thoughts of how he would be affected by her new attire brought a blush to her face as well as shivers of desire, most inappropriate in the current setting.

Late in the afternoon, exhausted but exhilarated, Lizzy said her good-byes to Madame. The purchases were finally packed up and sent to Pemberley. With Phillips as chaperone, Lizzy decided to walk to the gentlemen’s club where Darcy had spent his afternoon. Along the way she passed a shop with clothing for the common man. On a sudden whim, Lizzy entered, Phillips close behind per orders of his Master. The clerk approached, obviously surprised to see a gentlewoman in this type of establishment.

“My lady,” he bowed, “how may I help you?”

“My husband works with horses,” Lizzy said, “and some of his clothing is becoming quite worn. I would like to appraise your overcoats, please.”

Lizzy eventually settled on a coat much like the one he had, warm and thick and weaved with sturdy wool. It was the finest the store had to offer, yet practical and simple. Phillips assisted her with the sizing, being only slightly shorter and less broad in the shoulders than Darcy. For good measure, having no idea whether he needed them or not, she bought a couple plain linen shirts and breeches.

Packages carried by Phillips, Lizzy resumed her journey. She passed numerous stores of interest and her desire to buy needless items for her husband burned in her chest, however, the hour was getting late so she made mental notes and bypassed them for the present.

Later that evening, after dinner, Lizzy and Darcy were in their sitting room. Darcy had carried out Lizzy’s requests and the room had been rearranged. The landscape of Lizzy hung over the fireplace mantle directly across from the doorway so one’s eyes were drawn to it immediately upon entering. A mammoth new carpet which Darcy had ordered on his last trip to London had arrived the day before. It was plush and thick, a soft gold with an edging of pale green. It lay in front of the fireplace and dominated the room. The chaise and two chairs with ottomans sat before the flames. A breakfast sidebar stood against one wall with their small dining table nearby. Two medium sized bookshelves had been brought in and Lizzy had unpacked her favorite books. Lizzy had discovered a petite desk in one of the guest’s chambers and had fallen in love. So it had been relocated to their sitting room, placed close to Darcy’s desk in one corner before the window. The room was cozy, serene, and inviting. In truth they had spent scant time relaxing in any of the downstairs rooms, much preferring to be here, together and informal.

So it was tonight. Lizzy sat at her desk and Darcy was at his. They were not quite close enough to physically touch, but the desks were arranged in a rough “V” so they could converse easily if necessary and could view each other unobstructed across the negligible space. Darcy had removed his coats and cravat. The household account ledger was in front of him and a minute crease twisted between his brows as he concentrated. Lizzy was in her nightgown and robe and alternated watching her husband with the task she worked on. As always, he distracted her by his very presence, but pleasantly so. She was amused at how he fidgeted while he worked. His body he held straight and erect, but his fingers were incessantly moving, either twirling his quill or stroking his chin or, as now, playing with a palm sized glass ball. She was further fascinated at how dexterous he was in his unconscious toying. He absently tossed and rolled the little ball, balanced it on his tips and even reeled it across his knuckles, not once taking his eyes or focus off the ledger. She shook her head in amazement, smiled and returned her deliberations to her letter.

She had completed a long, detail filled correspondence to Jane, which she had been composing in bits and pieces for several days. She missed Jane, even as content as she was at Pemberley. At odd moments throughout her day she would find herself thinking of her sister, wondering what she was doing, how she would react to something Lizzy was saying or doing. Mostly, Lizzy was curious if her sister was as happy in her marriage as she was. Lizzy adored Mr. Bingley and was certain he loved her sister, so she was not particularly worried about her sister’s happiness. No, she simply missed not sharing in that happiness and not being able to talk about her own felicity.

Also, Christmas was fast approaching and although Lizzy was delighted at the prospect of spending the holidays with her husband and new family, it would be the first holiday season in the whole of her life without her parents and sisters. It was a bittersweet reality. Which lead to the task before her. She and Darcy had discussed the Christmas plans and he had embraced the idea of a major celebration. For over ten years, since his mother had died, Christmas at Pemberley had been a quiet affair. He felt it was high time they put the past grief behind them and commemorate the season as it deserved to be.

To that end, Lizzy had penned formal invitations. Darcy had insisted on inviting the Gardiner’s, so one invitation had been written to them. Another had been written to Col. Fitzwilliam and yet another to Lord and Lady Matlock. Georgiana would be returning to Pemberley in a little over a week. Col. Fitzwilliam and his parents, who had been gracious enough to keep Georgiana in Town during these first weeks of the Darcy’s marriage, would be bringing her home when they returned to their estate in Matlock for the winter. Lizzy had won the affection of the Matlock’s while in London during her engagement. It had been a tortuous battle, what with Lady Catherine’s vocal disapproval and attempts to thwart Darcy’s marriage to “the country upstart.” However, eventually Lizzy’s natural charm and wit, along with the blatantly obvious love Darcy held for her, had swayed the Matlock’s. Lizzy was far from comfortable with them, imposing characters as they were, but she respected them. Mostly, she knew how valuable they were to Darcy, so she had declared they be invited for Christmas Day as well.

Lastly, Darcy requested the presence of a friend of his from Leicester, a Mr. Stephen Lathan and his young wife Amelia. Darcy had met Mr. Lathan years ago at Cambridge and the two had become friendly, being of similar temperaments. He owned a small estate in Leicestershire and his father had died this past year, leaving Mr. Lathan without any family except for his wife of one year. She was Scottish so her family lived quite far away, and Darcy thought it would be a nice gesture to have them join the Pemberley festivities, understanding thoroughly how grief stricken his friend would be this holiday. Lizzy had not met them, but had absolutely no problem including them.

Inviting Lady Catherine and Miss Anne was positively out of the question. Lizzy had gently broached the issue, but Darcy, in a rare display of anger toward his wife, had flatly refused to even consider it nor to even discuss the subject. Lizzy feared the breach between the two was irreparable and it saddened her. She was quite content to never set eyes on Lady Catherine again, thinking her in all ways a horrible woman. Nonetheless, she was Darcy’s Aunt, sister to his mother, and as the schism was a direct result of her existence, it pained her. Logically she knew that it probably had been an inevitable event since Anne and Darcy would never have married, neither of them desiring it. Lady Catherine would undoubtedly have been furious at whomever Darcy had chosen to wed over her daughter. Still, logic aside, Lizzy could not stop feeling a bit guilty and wished she could facilitate a reconciliation. If it ever happened, it would not be now, so Lizzy pushed the matter from her mind.

Darcy closed his ledger with a snap and stretched his neck, sighing deeply. Lizzy had finished the last invitation, to the Lathan’s, so rose up and handed it to her husband.

“The last one,” she declared, “How does it sound?”

He took it from her, claiming her hand in the process for a brief kiss. He smiled up at her, “I am certain it is as well written as all the others, my love.” As he read, Lizzy stood behind him and began massaging his temples with her fingers. She then ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp to relieve the tension she knew he felt after concluding long columns of mathematics. She traveled to his neck and shoulders, kneading firmly with her surprisingly strong hands. Darcy groaned and dropped his chin to his chest. “That feels so wonderful,” he sighed.

“Your muscles are too tight,” she stated, “How did you ever manage without me to do this?”

“Samuel is actually a fine masseuse,” he mumbled, “although, the end result of his attentions were never as pleasant as yours!” He clasped one hand and pulled her around and onto his lap. She laughed then kissed him soundly as her hands resumed their devotion to his shoulders. Darcy untied her nightgown, slipping one hand inside for his own form of massaging.

Lizzy faltered and gasped against his lips. “Sir!” she teased, playfully slapping at his probing hand, “I cannot complete my wifely duty of easing my husband’s pain if you distract me so!”

Darcy chuckled and resumed his provocative activities with stubborn persuasion. “There are countless ways to ease my pain, my heart. We simply have differing ideas at the moment. However, I am supremely confident that I can modify your direction with alacrity.”

To further prove his point, he fluidly arose with her secured in his arms and carried her into their bedchamber. In the end, he was correct and Lizzy did not balk in the slightest.

Meeting the Matlocks

Posted on Friday, 31 March 2006

Lizzy lay drifting off to sleep, her bare back pressed firmly against her husband’s chest, his heat seeping into her and his strong arms holding her tightly. As always, she was overwhelmed by the incredible peace and joy she felt in the presence of this man she loved so totally. His breath tickled her shoulder as he slept with his head next to hers, the power and strength of him apparent in every muscle of his body as he held her securely. He could not be any closer unless he crawled under her skin! She loved his need to cuddle and, oddly enough, had no trouble sleeping with him so near. In fact, her need to feel him beside her had become a necessity.

Her sleepy thoughts turned to Christmas. Lizzy zealously anticipated the holiday, even though it meant disruption to their idyllic solitude. She was anxious to renew and deepen her friendship with Georgiana and she knew William missed his sister. Col. Fitzwilliam was a kind and humorous man, sure to add laughter to the festivities. The elder Fitzwilliam’s were much more stoic than their youngest son, but they were polite and they were now her family. Memories of her introduction to them in London returned to her and with those remembrances freshly recalled, Lizzy fell asleep.................

Setting: London, some five weeks previously

It had been agreed upon by all that the trousseau and wedding gowns for the two Bennet sisters must be acquired in Town. Mr. Bennet rather than Mrs. Bennet, at the behest of Lizzy, had escorted his daughters to the home of the Gardiner’s in Cheapside. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley had accompanied them on their journey in their own carriage, both wishing that they could ride with their fiancé’s, but such things were not done.

The first few days were spent in a whirlwind of shopping. Aunt Gardiner accompanied the girls while Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner were entertained by Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. Darcy enthusiastically shepherded his soon to be family to his club and other favorite haunts. Mr. Bennet was delighted to pass hours in the Darcy House library. Col. Fitzwilliam joined the men whenever his duties allowed him to do so, and Lizzy was certain her father had not had so much fun in years. One night her uncle and father did not even return from Darcy House, and the next day all the gentlemen suffered from headaches they tried unsuccessfully to hide!

Most evenings they all dined at the Darcy townhouse. Darcy proudly introduced Lizzy to the staff there, much smaller than the staff at Pemberley. Mrs. Smyth, the Housekeeper, was terribly formal, unlike Mrs. Reynolds, but quite efficient. Darcy House was modest and soberly decorated with few of the flamboyant embellishments found at Pemberley and far less rooms. The garden was graceful and beautiful with several secluded areas, although not huge. Darcy showed Lizzy the chambers that would be hers and as at Pemberley she saw no reason to alter them, however these intimate details could not be openly discussed during their engagement, so she evaded the issue of redecorating for the present.

All in all, she was delighted with the house and overjoyed at the chance to observe Darcy in the comfort of his home. The stolen moments alone that they finagled were significantly more intense and amorous, dangerously skirting the edges of propriety. It was not until after they were married that he would confess how tortuous it was for him to have her in his home without being her husband. His desire for her had overwhelmed him and, he admitted, the nearness of his bedchamber where so many dreams of her had transpired, exponentially added to his distress. It was during this time that Lizzy became fully cognizant of the hidden passion of her betrothed and the tremendous effect said passion had on her!

Darcy and Bingley had kept their presence in London a secret, not wishing to attend to any of the usual social trappings that came with their station. Caroline, much to Lizzy and Jane's relief, had accompanied the Hurst’s to Bath for a short vacation. With Georgiana still at Pemberley until the week before the wedding, the only extended family to deal with were the Earl and his wife. This could be problematic.

It had started, of course, with Lady Catherine. In the first days after their engagement, Darcy had written to his sister, Mrs. Reynolds, and cousin Richard glowing letters of his bliss at Miss Bennet accepting his hand. His letter to his Uncle had been more formal but filled with personal revelations of his joy. Darcy was fairly close to his Aunt and Uncle Fitzwilliam, but knew they would be shocked and dismayed at his choice of wife. Ultimately none of this mattered to him, however his regard for their opinion and wish for their sanction was desired. His letter to his Aunt Catherine had been extremely formal and terse, having not totally forgiven her for her inappropriate actions at Longbourn.

Despite his irritation, Darcy had not expected the rabid vitriol of his Aunt's attack against his fiancé. The letter she sent him in answer to his news was lengthy and malicious. First she had responded to his announcement with a scathing denouncement of his character. According to her he had, betrayed his dear mother's memory by callously abandoning Anne to spinsterhood. She said he was selfish, irresponsible and a black mark on the ancient house of Darcy. There was much more and it did hurt, however he was a self confident man who knew the truth about his own character so could mainly ignore his Aunt’s horrid words. It was when she viciously condemned Elizabeth personally that he responded with outrage and steely resolve. His honor as a gentleman and accountability as husband and protector to his wife were mortally assaulted and he was beyond offended.

Lizzy never knew the full contents of Lady Catherine’s letter. She probably would not have known the letter existed if she had not been at Netherfield the day it arrived. Darcy and Bingley were playing chess while the ladies sat nearby when the footman brought the gentlemen the day’s post. Darcy’s stack was large, as always due to the numerous business interests he managed. He flipped through it quickly stopping with a frown upon spying his Aunt’s hand. It had been a week since his engagement and his letter had only posted four days ago, so he was surprised at the haste in her reply and in the fact that she had replied at all. Later he would condemn himself for not having the foresight to open the letter in private or for controlling his temper. As he read, his face darkened visibly, his eyes as black agates and his lips pressed into the thin line signifying tremendous anger. Forgetting where he was in his wrath, he jerked from his chair uttering a vile curse and stormed from the room. Needless to say, the three other occupants were stunned speechless. Bingley had more experience with his friend’s temper so recovered quickly, stammering to assure the ladies that all would be well. After a moment of paralysis, Lizzy rose to follow Darcy. He had disappeared from sight but the blanched face of a maid down the hall was indication enough of the direction he had taken.

She found him in the library, staring out a window. At first glance he seemed calm, but in the short time of their acquaintance Lizzy had learned to recognize the signs of tension in his body and never had he been as tense as he was at this moment. Fury emanated from him in nearly visible waves. Lizzy approached him silently and gently laid her hand on his arm.

He jolted in surprise and looked at her with such ferocity on his face that she flinched. “Leave me be, Elizabeth,” he commanded flatly in a voice that brooked no argument.

Nonetheless, she refused. “No,” she said firmly, “Talk to me William.”

He stared at her in shocked ire at her refusal then returned his gaze to the window. He fluttered the letter in the air. “My Aunt is not pleased about our engagement,” he said with massive understatement.

Lizzy surprised him further by actually laughing and his scowl increased. “I find no humor in this Elizabeth.”

“Really William! Did you imagine she would embrace me with open arms and throw a party? Lady Catherine made her opinion of me quite clear at Longbourn, an event that we should essentially be thankful for since left to your own devices you may not have gotten up the nerve to propose again.” She said the last bit teasingly and rose onto her toes to kiss one cheek while caressing the other. He continued to stare at her, clearly torn between crushing her into his arms or further ranting about the letter. In the end he did neither. He sighed and walked several paces away before turning back to look at her. He was in turmoil and had no idea what to say.

Lizzy moved a bit closer to him but kept a space, sensing he needed some distance. “William, I am indifferent to what your Aunt has to say about me or us. I love you with all my heart and you love me. She cannot alter that, can she?”

“Of course not!” he said in a strangled tone.

“She is angry at her dashed hopes for you and Anne. I am not a mother yet, however, I can partly sympathize. It does in no way justify her actions or words but you must try to understand a little.”

Darcy shook his head. “Elizabeth, it is more than that. She has slandered you personally, your character and virtue and qualifications as my intended. This I cannot forgive.”

She drew closer before replying softly, “Did you not initially doubt my qualifications and connections, beloved?” His countenance paled at her words and she rapidly closed the gap, taking his face into her hands so he would not turn away. “The difference is that you know my character and virtue and you love me. The only truth that matters is us and our love. The rest will resolve itself or it will not, but it is inconsequential as long as we are unified in our commitment.”

Darcy sighed again and rested his forehead against hers, his arms enfolding her. “How are you so wise, my love, for one so young?”

She smiled impishly and kissed him lightly. “It is a secret, Mr. Darcy. You cannot expect a girl to reveal all too soon can you? Then where would the mystery be?”

He laughed. “Very well. I shall let Lady Catherine stew and rage if she must, however I refuse to listen.”

Darcy waited a couple weeks before he addressed his Aunt. His letter was blunt and formal. In language that permitted no error he informed her that he would forever revere her as his mother’s sister but that his loyalty was to Elizabeth. Until she accepted this incontrovertible fact and rendered his betrothed the esteem due her as Mistress of Pemberley and Mrs. Darcy, she would not be welcome in his life.

Unbeknownst to him at the time, Lady Catherine had been busy spreading her disgust to Lord and Lady Matlock, and anyone else who was willing to listen. The news of Mr. Darcy’s engagement had disseminated expeditiously through the ton, rumors galore based on little in the way of truth. Darcy’s supreme happiness conjoined with his general distain for London society was such that he gave no consideration to what gossip may be circulating. The opinion of his Uncle and Aunt was another matter. In both instances, he confidently believed that Elizabeth’s charms would eventually prevail. The fortuitous trip to Town presented the opportunity for him to introduce his fiancé to the rest of his family.

Upon arriving with the Bennets, Richard clued Darcy in on the letters from Lady Catherine to his parents and the confusion they harbored over Darcy’s choice of bride. Col. Fitzwilliam had sung the praises of Elizabeth and made no secret of the love Darcy felt for his bride to be. The Fitzwilliam’s cared very much for their nephew and they trusted the opinion of their son, so were willing to forestall jumping to any conclusions. All the same, Lord Matlock was prepared to forcefully remind Darcy of his duties to Pemberley if his choice of wife was as poor as Lady Catherine intimated. The Earl was a realist and the patriarch of a noble family. Love and romance have their place, but not at the expense of tradition, duty, and honor to one’s name, country, and ancestry.

On their fifth evening in Town, Lizzy and her father accompanied Mr. Darcy to the Matlock townhouse for dinner. Strangely, Lizzy was not at all nervous. Perhaps it was her naiveté, but truly it was simply her nature and character to not be intimidated. Darcy observed her sunny face and gay personality as she chatted with he and Mr. Bennet in the carriage and his pride and love swelled. She was amazing. So fearless and brave, so vibrant and luminous. If his Uncle and Aunt disapproved……..well, they would be fools and he knew they were not fools.

The guests included Col. Fitzwilliam and also his older brother, Jonathan, the heir to the Matlock title, and his wife Priscilla. After the introductions were made, they gathered in the parlor for a short spell before dinner. Lord Matlock was dazzled immediately by Miss Bennet’s charm and liveliness. It was no mystery why Darcy had succumbed to her, Miss Bennet being as gregarious as he was taciturn. They say opposites attract and here was a clear example of the old adage.

Mr. Bennet was the archetypical country gentleman. Proper to be sure, but somewhat irreverent, intelligent and with a piquant wit and wry humor. Lord Matlock, for all his elevated rank, was the Master of a country estate and appreciated men such as Mr. Bennet for their unpretentious mannerisms. In no time at all, the two men were engaged in a friendly discourse of modern literature versus the classics.

Dinner was announced and Lizzy was seated to the left of Lord Matlock and her father to his right. Darcy sat beside her, Mr. Fitzwilliam next to him with Lady Matlock to his left at the end of the table. To her left sat her youngest son with Mrs. Fitzwilliam thus between the Colonel and Mr. Bennet. It was a perfect arrangement. Mr. Bennet and Lord Matlock conversing easily on numerous topics, with Lizzy joining in frequently. Col. Fitzwilliam, always full of stories and anecdotes, kept his mother entertained and even managed to elicit a laugh or two from his sober brother and pretentious sister-in-law. Darcy was content to placidly observe his fiancé enchant his Uncle, contributing now and then to the general conversation.

“Tell me Miss Bennet,” Lord Matlock asked at one point, “what first attracted you to my nephew?”

“That is easy to answer, my Lord,” Lizzy replied with a sly glance at Darcy, “It was a combination of his sparkling personality, dazzling communication skills, and lightness of foot on the ballroom floor! He positively swept me off my feet.”

Lord Matlock almost spit his wine he laughed so hard. “Of course it was!”

Darcy was blushing but smiled at Lizzy as she laughed. “The awful fact is, Uncle, that Miss Bennet did not even like me when first we met.”

“Mr. Darcy is far too generous, my Lord. The actual sad truth is that I loathed him.” She tempered her words with a brief touch to his cheek as they gazed at each other. “He is rather like a fine bottle of aged red wine. The cork must be removed, the wine poured out and allowed to breathe. One must patiently wait for the aroma to rise in the air to captivate those who wish to partake of its delights. The wine warms in the glass as the flavor softens and mellows, exposing its true essence.” The table had fallen silent as the diners watched the intimate and lovely interplay between Darcy and Elizabeth.

She returned her attention to Lord Matlock. “Also he is quite tenacious. Did you know that? It seemed like every time I turned around, there he was!” Her eyes twinkled with mirth and Darcy squeezed her hand under the table. “However, to answer your question in all seriousness, Sir, I say it is his honesty and loyalty which made me love him.”

“Excellent answer, Miss Bennet.”

After dinner, while the ladies retired to Lady Matlock’s parlor, the gentlemen shared a brandy in the drawing room. Lord Matlock took Darcy aside. “I like her, my boy, enormously. There is absolutely no doubt she loves you. Her father is a gentleman and their manners impeccable.”

“Thank you, Sir. Your opinion means a great deal to me.”

Lord Matlock peered at his nephew intently. “Nonetheless, what if I do not approve? What if I agree with your Aunt Catherine?”

Darcy returned his gaze with the same intensity. “Sir, I would be grieved, as I am with Lady Catherine’s attitude. However, my choices are just that… mine. Elizabeth is my life. I am nothing without her.”

Lord Matlock nodded, still watching his nephew’s face. “And Pemberley?”

Darcy was silent, thinking how to respond. “I understand what you are asking, Sir. All my adult life I have placed Pemberley’s needs before my own.” He paused. “I believe I have been a worthy Master of Pemberley, that I have carried the Darcy name proudly. I searched long and hard for a woman of quality, someone strong and brave, intelligent and wise, empathetic and giving. All the characteristics the Mistress of Pemberley must have. I am not a fool, Uncle. Elizabeth has all this and so much more. I have fallen in love with a woman my equal, if not superior. Yet all of this is inconsequential compared to the fact that she loves me and I her. Her paramount value is in this truth.”

Lord Matlock smiled then, a bright smile. “Your father would be very proud of you, Fitzwilliam, as would your mother. They loved each other, as you know. An emotion uncommon in our society. Both of them were better human beings because of it. I do approve of your Miss Bennet. You have my blessing, for what it is worth,” he ended wryly.

Lord and Lady Matlock attended the wedding, as did their two sons. Lady Catherine was not invited, having ignored Darcy’s second attempt at a reconciliation. He would make no further gestures. Miss de Bourgh was invited and sent a gift along with her heart-felt blessings. Unfortunately she could not attend without her mother. Darcy’s happiness was so profound that he spared little energy in grief over his Aunt. As Lizzy had said, it would eventually resolve itself or it would not. They were one now, and that is all that truly mattered to either of them.

Christmas Preparations

Posted on Friday, 31 March 2006

“Elizabeth? Wake up, my love.” Darcy sat next to his sleeping wife, gently smoothing her hair and he whispered softly into her ear. “I cannot leave without a farewell.” He kissed behind her ear tenderly. “Lizzy? Open your eyes.”

“William?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Indeed,” he laughed softly, “Whom else would it be?”

She yawned and stretched, opening her eyes briefly before nestling deeper into the mattress. “Come back to bed,” she murmured, “I am cold.”

Darcy smiled and tucked the thick covers about her. “I must go, love. Mr. Keith is waiting for me. You can return to your slumber, but I had to tell you I love you before I left.” He kissed her forehead and cheek and then her lips. It was a mistake…..her arms somehow freed themselves from the snuggly placed covers and twined about his neck as she drowsily pulled him into her embrace, deepening the tiny kiss he meant to bestow.

He sighed and happily gave in to her demands for a moment. With regret he untangled her hands from his hair, kissing each palm. She was dazedly looking at him, still more asleep than awake. “Why are you dressed? What time is it?” She started to rise up, but he restrained her.

“Remember, dearest? I need to inspect the fisheries today. I shall return for dinner, I promise.” Her hands were clasped in his and he kissed her fingers. “I shall pine for you terribly and will be thinking of you incessantly.” He chuckled mildly. “So much so that I am not sure how effectual I will actually be! It shall be a test of my fortitude.”

She was fully awake now. Aware that it was absolutely ludicrous but unable to curb her emotions, she felt tears burn her eyes and her chin beginning to quiver. In a small voice she said, “I shall be desolate without you Fitzwilliam. Please be careful and return quickly!”

Oh the power she had over his faculties! Why is it that every time she spoke his full name he melted? With a groan he kissed her energetically, wrapping his arms about her as best he could with blankets and a comforter in the way. He stroked her back and readjusted his body so he was lying next to her, some tiny part of his foolish brain conjecturing that as he was clothed and she under the covers, his control could be maintained. Only a few kisses, he told himself, to placate me during my separation from her.

It was some twenty minutes later before he arose from the bed. The few kisses had evolved into far greater diversions. As he buttoned his waistcoat and readjusted his clothing, smiling at his divine wife, his love was too profound to experience any regret. He was behind schedule now, but the memory of her and the tingling sensations coursing through his veins vastly outweighed any time concerns.

He finished smoothing his rumbled clothing as she arose from the bed, standing before him in all her glory. She buttoned his jacket and tamed his mussed hair with her fingers. “There,” she said, “you are presentable. And tremendously handsome, I daresay.” She smiled and kissed him chastely.

“I love you, Mrs. Darcy, and shall miss you.” His hands traveled over her and he nuzzled her neck, planting one last kiss to her earlobe before he pulled away. As if fearful of losing his restraint yet again, he turned abruptly and strode rapidly to the door, pausing for one last look and a devastating smile as he closed the door behind him.

Lizzy sighed, eyeing the bed but knew she would not be able to return to sleep. Besides, she did have plans for herself today. She retrieved her nightgown from the floor wondering, not for the first time, why she even bothered donning one each night. Her husband did delight in removing them, she mused with a becoming blush, which was an incentive to maintain the habit.

Their sitting room felt emptier without Darcy and Lizzy did not like dining alone, so she ate quickly. This was the first day for over two weeks that they would be apart for more than an hour or two. Even when Darcy had needed to attend to business he had been brief or had worked while she sat nearby. The realities of life at Pemberley were gradually invading their idyllic solitude. Today’s outing had been postponed by Darcy for several days but he could no longer ignore his responsibilities. It was sad, however, Lizzy was determined not to mope about but instead to benefit from this time alone.

First, she met with Mrs. Reynolds in her parlor. Over the past week they had conversed on a number of occasions, primarily about the Christmas festivities. Lizzy was progressively growing more comfortable with the housekeeper and began inquiring about other topics relating to the manor’s management and tasks which she should eventually assume.

Mrs. Reynolds was all that Darcy had declared she was…… benevolent, amicable, patient, supportive, and so incredibly elated to have Lizzy as Mistress.

Mr. Keith had penned a detailed report of all the Pemberley tenants and their families. Lizzy’s initial order of business with Mrs. Reynolds was to discuss the holiday care packages for the tenants. It was an old tradition that had been maintained over the years but without the personal touch of a Mistress. Lizzy figured this was a perfect commencement of her duties and a splendid avenue to acquaint herself with them. She hoped that Georgiana would wish to accompany her. Darcy had never insisted on Georgiana undertaking the tasks properly expected of the Mistress of Pemberley since this was not her role and she was too young. However, he did believe it imperative she learn what being the mistress of an estate entailed since she would someday marry. He and Lizzy had conferred and decided that Lizzy joining the family afforded an ideal opportunity for them to be educated together.

Using a map of the estate and her knowledge of the surrounds, Mrs. Reynolds figured it would take two to three days to deliver the packages, allowing time to socialize. A rough agenda was laid for the days prior to Christmas. The gifts were to be individualized based on each family’s needs. Here is where Mr. Keith’s and Darcy’s intimate knowledge had been invaluable. Darcy had been so proud of Lizzy when she broached the subject of tackling this chore. He had willingly put aside his own business and they had sat for over two hours talking about the tenants while Lizzy jotted down the information. Mrs. Reynolds and Miss Jameson imparted personal tidbits about the children and wives. Armed with this data, Lizzy had dictated meticulous lists of purchases to be made, victuals to be prepared, and game to be dressed for each family.

Next, they finalized the menus for Christmas Eve and Day. Mrs. Langton managed the kitchens with an iron fist and honestly required little in the way of instruction. Lizzy had requested the inclusion of some of her personal favorite dishes and also to be informed of the daily menu for her approval, yet other than that, no changes needed to be made. As far as the Holiday preparations were concerned, Mrs. Langton was abundantly capable, having served the Darcy family for over twenty years. Although Lizzy had heard rumors of Mrs. Langton’s grousing about the extra work, she also had been confidentially enlightened by Mrs. Reynolds that the cook was never happier than when overtaxed and that her belligerence was a well honed personality trait used to perfection in her superior management of the kitchen staff.

“I am confident that Mrs. Langton will provide adequately for all our guests,” Lizzy said, marking a check on her list, “and that she will command the huntsmen aptly. Now, I see that the groundsmen have been trekking into the woods for holly, ivy and mistletoe. I want to drape the entire manor if possible, even if they have to strip the gardens and forest bare!”

“I have instructed them, Mistress. I have purchased ribbon to tie the boughs and lace through the vines. I inventoried the stock of candles and ordered several dozen additional. Mr. Taylor will be directing the footmen to unpack the decorations in storage and Miss Jameson will oversee any cleaning or repairs. This will be finished by the end of the week. With your permission, Mrs. Darcy, I would request we refrain from the final trimming until Miss Georgiana arrives?”

“Absolutely, Mrs. Reynolds.” Lizzy smiled, “It shall be wonderful to have Miss Darcy home. Our acquaintance was unfortunately fleeting before the wedding therefore not conducive to forming a sisterly relationship, as I desire ours to be. Also, Mr. Darcy misses her terribly.”

Mrs. Reynolds continued, crossing items off her own list as she went, “The guest chambers are being prepared. Col. Fitzwilliam will most likely dwell here rather than at the Matlock Estate. I have chosen the largest of our couples suites in the east wing for the Lathan’s, if this meets with your approval, Mrs. Darcy.”

“I will trust your judgment in this matter, Mrs. Reynolds, since the guest rooms are unfamiliar to me yet.”

“Thank you, Mistress. I doubt if Lord and Lady Matlock will tarry over night, however, I have taken the liberty of preparing a suite for them as well. The weather can be unpredictable this time of year.”

“Excellent.” Lizzy examined her paper with a small frown. “Well, it all appears to be in order. The Yule Log has been cut and dressed, the pianoforte tuned, menus arranged, the house is impeccably clean as always, games and activities concocted and equipped for….” She sighed and shyly met Mrs. Reynolds kind eyes. “Mrs. Reynolds, I must confess to you how tremendously appreciated your collaboration with me is. You have been patient and thoughtful and exceedingly supportive. I am well aware that you did not need my input on any of the planning, nonetheless you embraced my interference and have taught me so much. I cannot thank you enough.”

Mrs. Reynolds blushed faintly. “Mrs. Darcy, may I speak freely?” Lizzy nodded. “The Darcy’s are dear to me as is Pemberley. I flatter myself that I know Mr. Darcy well, or at least as well as a servant can ever know one’s Master. His joy since his marriage to you, Mrs. Darcy, is beyond anything I have ever witnessed from him. That fact alone would induce me to welcome you and, frankly, endure any hardship on my part in the process. However, this has not been the case. If I may be so bold, I sincerely like you. You are intelligent, lively, honorable and most importantly, you love Mr. Darcy and Pemberley. I am discovering that these discussions and educational opportunities with you are a source of pleasure to me. Therefore, the thanks are entirely mine, Mistress.”

Lizzy was overcome and speechless, her eyes glazed with tears. Mrs. Reynolds lightly patted her hands then rose, resuming her brisk, efficient manner. “Is there anything else, Mrs. Darcy?”

“No, I believe we have covered the list for now.”

“Very well. Lunch shall be served early, as you requested, and Phillips will be awaiting you in the foyer when you are ready.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.” With a curtsey, she left. Lizzy remained seated for a while, thinking. Her mind turned to William, wondering where he was at that moment, what he was doing. She shook her head. Do not start down that path! A knock at the door interrupted her reverie. “Enter.”

A maid approached and handed her a letter. “This just arrived, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Thank you. Your name is Hannah, is it not? I am slowly learning.”

“There are many of us, Mrs. Darcy. I still cannot remember the names of all the Footman.” She giggled and then flushed, realizing belatedly that she was being too forward.

Lizzy, however, laughed the tinkling laugh they had all grown accustomed to hearing in the usually quiet house. “Thank you Hannah, that comforts me.”

The letter was in actuality an invitation addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley from Sir John Coke of Melbourne Hall. There was to be a Twelfth Night Masque Ball. Lizzy’s heart fluttered in excitement mixed with no slight amount of trepidation at the news. She had never attended anything so formal in her life and it would be the first social outing with her husband. She shrugged. Sooner or later she had to meet the families of Derbyshire and afterwards the tonne of London. A ball was as fine a place as any to begin!

For the afternoon, Lizzy had decided to drive to Matlock for some shopping. Phillips and another footman named Georges attended her. The town of Matlock was larger than Lambton and a mere ten miles further south. Marguerite, who had resided there for the past eight years, had supplied her Mistress with a list of the finest shops the town had to offer.

Her first destination was the Black Stallion Inn. She introduced herself and requested an audience with the Owner, a Mr. Notting-Wythe. She thanked him for allowing Marguerite to serve her on a temporary basis and wished to notify him that she was delighted with her service and would be permanently employing her.

That accomplished, she spent several lovely hours attaining gifts for her parents, sisters, Charlotte, Georgiana and, of course, William. The funds which Darcy had allotted her were more than adequate for all she wished to purchase. So much so, in fact, that she could never envision spending it all. She even picked up a few odds and ends for the tenants and the servants, and still had a surplus.

Once she was home, bathing and dressing for dinner, her aching heart conquered her. Darcy had not yet returned and the loneliness of the long day without his smiles, kisses, tender touch, and lush, masculine voice caught up to her. She wore a new gown, fashionable and of a highly daring style. She chose the sapphires and Marguerite dressed her hair strikingly, permitting several curls to fall over one shoulder.

The sun was setting, casting the gardens into deeper gloom, before Lizzy heard her husband’s unmistakably voice and tread in the foyer. Her heart literally skipped a beat and every ounce of internal will power was called forth to forestall her rushing from the room and into his arms. Instead, she sedately strolled out of the parlor where she was lurking to see him handing his coat to a footman and speaking with Mr. Keith. He was dusty and windblown with a dark shadow of beard. She smiled brightly, content to merely gaze at him until he finally noticed her in his peripheral vision.

He halted mid-sentence and broke into a beaming grin as his eyes roved over her entire form. The footman disappeared as they always seemed capable of doing, and Mr. Keith murmured something about discussing these matters on the morrow as he quit the room. Darcy was unaware of it all, paralyzed by the heavenly vision of his wife.

“Mr. Darcy, welcome home.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy, I am happy to be home.” He kissed the hand she offered, slowly and with a decidedly improper caress. He took a step closer to her, peering intently into her eyes. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, “I have missed you and could easily, without the slightest thought to propriety, ravish you this very second.”

Lizzy laughed and tossed her head saucily, “Well then, Mr. Darcy, it is fortunate that I have been far too busy to miss you at all, so my emotions are in check!”

“Not even the tiniest bit, my love?” He languidly kissed one palm.

“Perhaps a time or two, husband. So many duties the Mistress of Pemberley must attend to, you see.” Her eyes twinkled but her voice was more than a little shaky.

He smiled and again raked his eyes over her body. “You were not thinking of me when you selected this specific gown, my dearest wife?”

“Do you like it? It is new!” she asked, suddenly sounding more like a giggly teenager as she posed and twirled around, dropping a flirtatious curtsey.

Darcy laughed gaily. “I like it enormously, Mrs. Darcy. I especially admire that there are only these three buttons and one sash keeping it on you.”

“Shocking, Mr. Darcy! I pray Samuel has drawn a cool bath for you as your temperature appears to be elevated. Shall I accompany you to your dressing room, husband?”

“I am considering the vast number of empty chambers between here and my bathing room so it would undoubtedly be prudent for you to wait for me in the parlor.” He kissed her cheek briefly but nonetheless sent a thrill through Lizzy’s veins. “I shall not be long, my love.”

Lizzy watched him climb the stairs, a naughty gleam which he did not detect sparkling in her fine eyes.

Darcy had finished his bath, a damp towel about his shoulders to catch the drops from his hair. Samuel was inside the closet retrieving the garments Mr. Darcy had indicated he wished to wear, while Darcy pulled on his trousers.

“Enchanting view, Mr. Darcy. Quite rejuvenating!”

Darcy spun about, his expression of laughable fright and shock rapidly replaced with an expansive smirk. Lizzy had quietly opened the well oiled door and was only a couple feet behind her husband, leaning audaciously against the wall. She sniggered but before either of them could utter a word, poor Samuel exited the closet and upon spying Elizabeth he yelped, dropped the clothes onto the floor, blanched then blushed scarlet.

Lizzy averted her face, biting her lip to avoid bursting into gales of mirth. Darcy barely glanced at his valet, eyes fixed on his wife. “You may retire, Samuel. Thank you, I no longer require your services.”

Samuel stammered something indecipherable and verily dashed out of the room. Lizzy could contain herself no longer and laughed helplessly. Darcy pinned her to the wall with his arms locked on either side of her waist. “You deserve to be disciplined severely for such behavior, wife. What shall your punishment be?”

“I do not figure that my behavior warrants a reprimand, Mr. Darcy! You started this little game, remember, and I did give you fair warning. If you failed to alert your valet, the fault is entirely yours.” She affected a pout and primly downcast her gaze. “However, if you truly feel that punishment is necessary, I shall be an obedient wife. Your earlier threat of ravishment sounded particularly distasteful. I am sure my lesson would be learned by such chastisement.”

She coyly fluttered her lashes and ran one hand the length of his torso, shoulder to hip. Darcy leaned slowly and enticingly toward her as if to plant a kiss, then paused mere inches from her upturned lips. “I rather imagine withholding ravishment would be a greater torture, my love. Yes, now that I reflect on the issue, this shall be your penalty.” And with this pronouncement, Darcy withdrew a pace, smiling at his wife’s expression of surprise and thwarted desire.

Darcy’s satisfaction at beating his wife at her own game was short lived however. When it came to teasing, Darcy may be learning quickly but Lizzy was the master. She shrugged her shoulders and studied her fingernails with deep intensity, declaring unconcernedly, “As you wish, husband. I accept my sentence and will now leave you be so I may ruminate on my faults and failings. I shall meet you in the dining room properly demure and sober.”

As she concluded her contrived and transparently spurious little speech, she kissed Darcy primly on the cheek and turned toward the door.

She had not taken a single step before her wrist was captured in a vise grip and she was spun around and again pinned to the wall, this time by her husband’s entire body. Needless to say, Darcy did not finish dressing in a timely manner and dinner was kept waiting. Luckily, the kitchen staff was becoming accustomed to these delays so the fine cuisine was served without noticeable deficiency when the Darcys, blushing and smiling and giddy, did arrive.

Later, as every night thus far since coming home to Pemberley, they relaxed in their sitting room. Darcy sat at his desk attending to business, and Lizzy with the piles of purchased gifts from her excursion to town scattered over the floor as she wrapped them for delivery.

“William,” she said suddenly, “I forgot to tell you of the invitation we received from Sir Coke. He and his wife are hosting a Twelfth Night Ball, a masque ball.”

Darcy nodded, not looking up from the document he was examining. “Yes, they hold one every year. It has become a standard Derbyshire event. My parents considered it the highlight of the season.”

“Do you always attend?”

“I have a few times, maybe three or four. You know I do not much care for dances.”

“Oh. Well, if you do not wish to attend, I understand.” Lizzy could not control the tone of disappointment creeping into her voice.

“Elizabeth, look at me. My reasons for distaining these sorts of events in the past are no longer relevant. I will assuredly never be one who is commonly referred to as the ’life of the party,’ nor will I ever pretend to adore conversation with persons unknown to me. On the other hand, I am now married, most happily I must add, so am no longer the prime bull presented for inspection. I will be the proudest man in all of England to escort you, dearest wife, to any and all social engagements which we are invited to. Who knows, I might even surprise you and be witty and charming and a veritable dancing aficionado.”

Lizzy glowed and leapt into her husband’s arms, kissing him enthusiastically all over his face. “Thank you, William! I promise I will make you proud and we will have a marvelous time!”

“I have no doubt whatsoever, my heart. Of course, you realize you will need to acquire a ball gown,” he remarked with a small grin, “I daresay this is not an onerous task?”

“I have several lovely gowns, William, thanks to your generosity.”

“No, beloved, for a ball such as this you will require something special. Madame du Loire will be able to attire you properly and I shall reap the benefit by arriving with the most stunningly beautiful woman in the entire known universe on my arm. She, in turn, will save all the best dances for me and I shall be the envy of all the men at the ball. You see how selfish I am?”

“No more than I, dearest, for I shall be attended by the prime bull of Derbyshire! How fortunate am I?”

Christmas Guests

Posted on Tuesday, 4 April 2006

The Darcy’s approached the day of Georgiana’s return home with mixed emotions.

Darcy adored his sister and had missed her enormously. Far too often in the course of his adult life business and social requirements separated him from her. One of the fortunate byproducts of settling into marriage had been the prospect of dwelling exclusively at Pemberley, with only occasional forays to Town necessary. All too soon Georgiana would be full-grown and leaving him for another man. He lamented the very thought and did not wish to squander the time he had remaining as her guardian.

Lizzy was fond of Georgiana even though they had essentially spent little time together. She pined for her own sisters; surprising herself, in truth, at how oppressive the quiet and solitude of Pemberley often felt when she had passed many an hour wishing for such quiet and solitude at Longbourn. The relationship she and Georgiana had forged thus far promised to be a sisterly one and Lizzy recognized that this was a crucial necessity for both of them.

Nonetheless, neither Elizabeth nor Darcy relished having their tranquil honeymoon shattered. The three weeks since their wedding had been magnificent. The freedom to express their love in any way they desired, anywhere they desired, was liberating. Darcy, especially, felt as if a Pandora’s Box had been opened in his soul. His entire life he had regulated his emotions, rigidly controlled his actions, suppressed his own desires, and dwelt in a world where honor and dignity and appearances were prized over compassion and happiness and passion. In three short weeks, that man had all but perished and Darcy’s spirit had danced at the wake.

His joy was a product not exclusively of his love for Elizabeth and the marvelous expression of that love, but also resulted from the peace of loosened strictures to his character. Where he once feared impropriety or performing in any way considered imprudent or sensational, he now dreaded re-establishing those traits. When he fully dwelt on his life thus far, he admitted honestly that his careful adherence to society’s rules had brought him mostly grief. Amazingly, breaking from that mold, laughing and smiling openly, and bending the rules on occasion had not caused Pemberley or the world to come crashing down!

Now they would be surrounded by guests, mostly family to be sure, and the test would be if Darcy reverted to his somber, serious self or allowed his joyfulness to bubble forth. One look at his lovely wife’s face and he did not doubt the answer.

They tarried in their sitting room until after noon, cognizant of the fact that for the next two weeks they would be expected to arise earlier than they had so far done and to break fast with their guests. Darcy caught up on several correspondences and business transactions while Lizzy wrote letters. Her gifts had already been sent and the tenants care packages were prepared and waiting for distribution over the next several days. After lunch Darcy rode away on Parsifal to visit a couple of the farms.

The final Christmas details and needs were completed. Holly and ivy vines trailed along the terrace railings and a sizeable pile of each remained to decorate the inside banisters. The maids had gleefully pounced on the occasion to design elaborate mistletoe ornaments to dangle throughout the manor. The Yule Log was dressed, Mrs. Langton had the mealtime essentials well in hand, and the guest chambers were cleaned and stocked. Pemberley and its new Mistress were ready!

It was late afternoon when a footman announced that the Matlock carriage was approaching and Darcy and Lizzy prepared to greet their guests before the main entrance.

Col. Fitzwilliam alighted first reaching in for Georgiana, who jumped out with all the enthusiasm of youth and launched into her brother’s waiting arms.

Darcy had never been able to contain his joy where it involved his dear sister. He twirled her about laughing gleefully before setting her on her feet and kissing her cheek. “I missed you Georgie! Welcome home.”

“William! It is good to be home,” Georgiana replied breathlessly then turned rapidly from her grinning brother to her new sister, standing cheerily at his side. “Elizabeth! It is so wonderful to see you again!”

The two young women embraced each other. “Welcome home Georgiana.”

Georgiana gestured at the bright lights along the front drive and entrance which illuminated the trailing boughs of holly and ivy. “Pemberley is so beautiful! I do not remember it ever lovelier. What a sensational Christmas it will be!”

Darcy greeted his cousin heartily. “Darcy, old man, you are positively beaming! Married life surely agrees with you,” Col. Fitzwilliam decreed with a wink to Elizabeth.

“More than I could possibly verbalize, cousin. Someday you must give up your reckless bachelor ways and discover how the other half lives.”

Richard shuddered, “Not too hasty Darcy, not too hasty. Mrs. Darcy, if I may be so bold, you are radiant. Shocked I am, to tell the truth,” with a sly glance at Darcy, “Personally I thought you would be weary of this old codger by now!”

Lizzy laughed as the Colonel bowed and kissed her hand, “Not yet, Colonel. Perhaps in a week or two.”

Lord and Lady Matlock had approached the small group on the veranda and were smiling pleasantly. Darcy welcomed them formally to Pemberley and they both greeted Lizzy with warmth.

“Please,” Darcy said with a step toward the house and the offer of his arm to his Aunt, “let us hasten to the parlor where it is warm and hot tea awaits.”

Georgiana linked her arm through Lizzy’s, smiling shyly. “My brother is glowing, Elizabeth, and so are you,” she blushed, “I cannot convey in words how delighted I am for you both.”

“Thank you Georgiana. We are blest, especially now that our family is with us. I trust your trip here was not overly tortuous?”

“Not in the least, aside from being anxious to arrive. Cousin Richard is thoroughly entertaining. His stories nearly induce me to wish I were male so I could join the military.”

Lady Matlock laughed her throaty laugh, “Richard exaggerates, my dear Georgiana. I am certain you would discover the realities contrary to his stories. Nonetheless, his wit does pass the time.”

Col. Fitzwilliam raised one brow and feigned shock, “Exaggerate? I?” while Lord Matlock chuckled.

Tea was served in the parlor to the particular relief of the fatigued travelers. The ladies sat on settees by the table while the gentlemen conversed in a knot by the fire.

“Lady Matlock, Mr. Darcy and I have readied your suite if you and Lord Matlock desire to abide for the night.”

“Thank you, my dear, however I believe we will recommence our journey after dinner, if you do not object. It is not much further and I am afraid our older bones prefer the comforts of home.” She smiled and lightly touched Lizzy’s hand, “I would be honored if you would address me as Madeline. We are family now, Elizabeth.”

Lizzy blushed, “I am touched, Madeline. Thank you. Mr. Darcy and I are pleased you and Lord Matlock will be sharing Christmas with us. I admit I am rather fond of Christmases with copious masses of friends and family underfoot.”

“Georgiana informs me your Uncle and Aunt will be celebrating here as well?”

“That is correct. They will arrive three days hence. Also, a gentleman friend of Mr. Darcy’s from Leicester, a Mr. Lathan and his wife are expected the same day. The poor man lost his father this past year and my husband extended an invitation as a way of cheering him. Plus, I do not think they have visited together for well over a year.”

“I do believe I have met Mr. Lathan a time or two, several years ago. He was at Cambridge with Fitzwilliam, correct?”

“Yes. They met there.’

“Ah, yes, I do recall. He sojourned at Darcy House one summer while the two men were off term. Agreeable young man, I seem to remember, serious and reserved yet generous and polite.” Lady Matlock laughed softly, “Quite like Mr. Darcy, in point of fact! I contemplated at the time if the two of them ever actually conversed with each other, both being so taciturn.” She glanced pointedly toward the man in question, who was smiling, effulgent and laughed loudly at some anecdote of his cousin’s. “How changed he is now. Perhaps Mr. Lathan has found the same fount of joy in his marriage as my nephew has.”

Lizzy blushed prettily. Darcy sensed the scrutiny upon him and turned his radiant face, his eyes immediately alighting on Elizabeth. For a moment only their gazes locked, yet that moment spoke volumes of the love and devotion the two shared and it was nakedly visible to all in the room.

Lady Matlock smiled and Georgiana positively glowed.

Dinner was a lively affair. Even the generally shy Georgiana was gregarious. Darcy said little, preferring to observe his family and to bask in the joy rushing through his veins. It had been more years than he cared to recollect since Pemberley had hosted such a gay party, and it would be additionally festive with the Gardiner’s and the Lathan’s arrival.

Richard and his parent’s resumed their journey to Matlock Manor shortly after dinner. The Colonel planned to return in two days and would stay at Pemberley for a week during the holiday before he was expected to return to his regiment in London. This left Georgiana alone with Lizzy and Darcy, an unvoiced yet pleasing prospect as they all desired to enjoy this brief episode of intimate family time.

For the very first evening since Elizabeth’s residence at Pemberley, they lounged in the music room. Georgiana eagerly seated herself at her new pianoforte and graced her brother and his wife with her marvelous playing. Elizabeth accompanied Georgiana by raising her voice in song for three tunes while turning the pages. Elizabeth had a lovely voice, a sweet lilting alto. Darcy sipped his brandy and contentedly smiled at his wife and sister, experiencing a profound sensation of fulfillment wash through him.

Georgiana’s yawns signified time for retiring. Together they walked up the massive staircase to her second floor chambers where Darcy kissed his sister tenderly. “Sleep well, Georgie.”

Lizzy accompanied Georgiana into her room, telling Darcy she would be up shortly. However, shortly ended up being two hours as the two young women gratified a mutual craving for the type of conversation which only female’s appreciate. Lizzy entered their bedchamber with a big smile on her face, missing her husband yet oddly serene in the happiness and completeness which had permeated her life and soul. Darcy had fallen asleep propped up on several pillows, his hand with book atop lax where it fell by his leg.

He is so beautiful, she thought, standing beside him and tenderly caressing a hand through his hair. She put the forgotten book on the bed stand and crawled cautiously under the covers. He was covered to his waist but unclothed and with a start and pang of guilt she felt the cool skin of his shoulders. She gently touched his cheek and said his name. He sighed but did not waken initially so she was forced to speak louder and tug on the pillows and his body to facilitate repositioning him supine and under the blankets. Darcy was a tall man, broad shouldered with not an ounce of unnecessary fat and heavily muscled. Luckily for Lizzy, he stirred groggily but enough for her to communicate his need to lie down which he did, naturally gathering her into his arms and nestling close. For the first time it was Lizzy’s warmth which seeping into her husband’s body and in short order they were soundly asleep.

The next two days passed in a whirlwind of activity affording the lovers scant time together and exhausted by nighttime. Darcy was on horseback from sunrise to after sunset traveling from north to south over Pemberley lands attending to numerous affairs which had been neglected. For this separation, Lizzy could honestly declare she was too busy to miss her husband…. not greatly anyway.

The entire first morning after Georgiana’s return was spent abetting and directing the final garnishing of the house. There was such a profusion of greenery splattered about the house it resembled a forest which had sprouted over night. Small candles were tactically nestled amongst the branches to be lit at night, representing the twinkling stars of the heavens. The dozens of mistletoe ornaments which the maids had so delightfully created were strategically suspended over doorways and alcoves. The Darcy Kissing Bough, an heirloom over a century old, had been meticulously cleaned and restored to mint condition. It was hung reverently in its traditional place over the fork of the grand staircase.

Another heirloom of the Darcy family had literally taken Elizabeth’s breath away. It was a nearly life sized nativity crèche scene carved from wood and intricately detailed. The set was complete, including the traditional stable animals and the Wise Men. As per custom, the crèche was situated in one corner of the dining room. The entire chamber had been elaborately festooned with a fine gold tablecloth, ivy, autumn leaves, Christmas candles, and more.

That afternoon and all the next day, Elizabeth and Georgiana visited the tenants and delivered the Holiday care packages. Georgiana agreed to go, reluctantly. Her shyness was acute and Lizzy felt guilty for coercing her into it, but Darcy had insisted and Georgiana would not dream of disobeying her brother. Thankfully, by the end of the first day Georgiana was relaxed, touched by the gratitude from the families they met and amazed by the realities of the world around her; the world which made her life possible. She took a huge leap forward in her maturity by viewing up close for the first time the lives of these simple folks. For Lizzy it was as if she had returned to Hertfordshire. These unpretentious, pragmatic and earthy people were not far removed from the society she had grown up in. She had studied the information on each family and greeted them as old friends. It would not be the slightest understatement to declare that by the end of her visits, Elizabeth Darcy was almost universally adored throughout Pemberley and the news of her kindness, generosity, humor and genuine solicitude would spread as a wild fire throughout all of Derbyshire.

December the twenty-third saw the arrival of the Gardiner’s, Lathan’s and Col. Fitzwilliam, all within a few hours of each other.

Richard arrived early in the morning and he and Darcy promptly disappeared for a ride and some shooting, a favorite pastime which Darcy had not indulged in since his marriage. By luncheon they were home, the kitchen newly supplied with several pheasants, a turkey and two grouse, which they did not need but wisely accepted graciously. After lunch Darcy arose, purposefully and implacable grasped his wife’s hand then placing it in the crook of his arm, announcing bluntly that he had “private estate business to discuss with his wife.” Lizzy blushed, Col. Fitzwilliam smirked and coughed, Georgiana was bewildered initially then flushed and giggled. Darcy was indifferent.

The Gardiner’s arrived around three in the afternoon. Lizzy and Darcy, refreshed and glowing, welcomed them to Pemberley. Despite the difference in their ages, Darcy got on famously with Lizzy’s uncle and was genuinely glad to see him. The Gardiner’s had become acquainted with the Colonel in London and at the wedding and Richard’s sunny disposition was such that Lizzy could not imagine anyone disliking him. After a brief respite in the main parlor, the gentlemen retired to the billiard room, Darcy with a lingering caress and kiss to Lizzy’s hand.

Lizzy accompanied her Aunt to the suite set aside for them; Georgiana left practicing carols on her pianoforte. Her Aunt wasted no time in commenting on Lizzy’s obvious felicity.

“Oh, Aunt Violet, I cannot express in mere words how happy I am! Marriage is vastly superior to anything I could have envisioned.”

“Well, my dear, at least marriage to the right man is!” They both laughed. “How are you finding Pemberley? Overwhelming?”

“Yes, a little. Mr. Darcy has been patient and attentive, escorting me everywhere, hardly leaving my side. Mrs. Reynolds, in truth all the staff, have been enormously supportive and kind. I do have so very much to learn though.”

“Is Mr. Darcy pressuring you in any way?”

“Oh no! Quite the opposite. He is immeasurably patient and actually seems nonchalant regarding the subject. He dotes on me profoundly. I fear I shall quickly become horribly spoilt if he does not desist.”

Her Aunt laughed, “I doubt this Lizzy. It is not in your nature to be unappreciative or influenced by luxury. Embrace his love and allow him to express it. I believe it is good for both of you. Mr. Darcy is altogether more buoyant and amiable and you have a steadiness and peace hovering about you. It is refreshing to see you both so well matched. I reckon I need not ask how the physical aspect of your relationship fares,” she continued in that forthright manner of hers, “as it is clearly written upon both your countenances and demeanor.”

Lizzy unwittingly assumed a dreamy expression, “Aunt, it is everything you told me and more. William is…..amazing, wonderful, gentle, and passionate. I am so very blessed and satisfied.” She blushed then but her Aunt chuckled.

The Lathan’s arrived around six. Mr. Lathan was much shorter than Darcy, about the same height as Lizzy, stocky with a ruddy complexion, blonde hair and hazel eyes. His wife Amelia was the same height as her husband, full figured, plump, with green eyes, fiery red hair and a profusion of freckles. Darcy greeted his friend with delight, ushering them inside the manor rapidly as snow was beginning to fall. Introductions were made in haste as all parties, especially the Lathan’s who were fatigued from their extended journey, needed time to freshen up before dinner.

Lizzy counted this meal the first official feast of the season and had planned accordingly. There was ham, turkey and pheasant, an abundant variety of vegetables and breads, pastries and pies and puddings. The large table was laden to capacity, the guests animated and the atmosphere celebratory.

Lizzy had sat Mrs. Lathan to her right. It was apparent that the young woman was weary yet still she was talkative and pleasant. Her lovely Scottish lilt was musical and husky. Conversation flowed and Lizzy was drawn to her outgoing, candid nature. She was quick witted, spirited and occasionally verged on crudeness, but Lizzy liked her.

Per protocol, the ladies and gentlemen separated after dinner for a spell, Lizzy hosting her guests in her newly redecorated parlor. Between the irascible Amelia Lathan, the unpretentious Violet Gardiner, and the clever Elizabeth Darcy, the naive and shy Georgiana received a lesson in humor and scintillating repartee!

They joined the men in the music room where Col. Fitzwilliam was induced to accompany Georgiana with the cello. Darcy stood behind the seated Lizzy with his fingers lightly resting on her neck, unaware that Mr. Lathan stood behind his wife in the identical inadvertent pose.

“Col. Fitzwilliam,” Lizzy declared, “you play beautifully! I am tremendously impressed.”

The Colonel bowed, “Thank you Mrs. Darcy, you are very kind. I fear I am rather out of practice. The only opportunity I have to indulge my meager musical talent is here at Pemberley.”

“My husband claims to be as poor a proficient on the violin, yet now I begin to speculate he may not have been totally forthright. How would you evaluate his skills, Colonel, as one artist assessing the other?”

Richard smugly appraised his faintly frowning cousin, “Ah, Mrs. Darcy, you place before me an interesting dilemma. If I judge his talents paltry then we shall all take pity on him and not wish to embarrass by prevailing upon him to play, thus depriving us entertainment but he shall thank me and be in my debt. If, however, I laud his gift, extolling the unsurpassed skill he wields then all shall beseech him to grace us with a tune to our delight but I shall likely be soundly pummeled once alone.”

They all laughed. Mr. Lathan chimed in with his soft voice, “I shall save you Colonel. Darcy has not seen me for many months so would not likely horsewhip me.”

“Do not be too confident, Lathan.” Darcy interrupted with a growl.

Undeterred, Mr. Lathan continued, “Darcy often played at Cambridge and is quite good, although he abhors performing to crowds. Except for that one time, remember Darcy?”

All eyes were on Darcy, brows raised in question. Richard stifled a chuckle and Mr. Lathan was grinning broadly. “This is blackmail, old friend.” Darcy said, trying not to smile.

Mr. Lathan spread his hands innocently, “Simply a reminder of what is possible with the appropriate….influences.”

“What manner of influences, Mr. Darcy, pray tell?” asked Mrs. Lathan with a dimpled smile. All were staring at Darcy with varying degrees of humor with the exception of Georgiana who was frankly baffled.

Darcy cleared his throat. “Very well. Georgiana, play ‘Largo’ by Handel and then ‘Minuet in G’ by Bach.” Darcy took a moment to tune his instrument, refusing to make eye contact with anyone then indicated to his sister he was prepared.

Lizzy waited with bated breath, anxious to hear her husband yet feeling tremendous remorse that her thoughtless teasing may have led him to humiliate himself. She acutely recalled her own chagrin at having been coerced by Lady Catherine to display her weak pianoforte abilities. Darcy, however, was reticent by nature and therefore more apt to embarrass. Upon the first strains she knew her fears were groundless. Darcy was no virtuoso but he was talented, far surpassing what she had imagined based on his assertions. The two of them played beautifully together and the entire room was spell bound.

The applause was sincere and lengthy. Darcy bowed then turned to his cousin, “Richard, one more with your assistance.” Colonel Fitzwilliam took his place at the cello and smiled at the sheets placed before him by Darcy. Georgiana indicated she was ready and they launched into a sterling rendering of “Ode to Joy” by Beethoven, eminently apropos for the season.

Georgiana’s skill and stamina were put to the test this night. The impromptu concert led to a swell of hidden talents brought to light as the guest’s boldness and merriment increased. Lizzy and Mrs. Lathan lifted their voices as did Mr. Gardiner, who revealed a pleasing tenor. Mr. Lathan chimed in on occasion with an unexpected deep bass belied by his soft speaking voice. The crown of the evening was Mrs. Lathan raising her beautiful Scottish alto a cappella for three folk ballads: “I Once Loved a Lass,” “Mary Queen of Scots’ Lament,” and “Blow the Candle Out.”

Lizzy sat at her vanity, Marguerite having been dismissed, absently brushing her hair as she smilingly recapped the evening’s events. There seemed no doubt all had enjoyed themselves and therefore the night could only be credited as a resounding success.

Lost in her reverie, Elizabeth did not notice her spouse’s entrance until he gently took the brush from her hand and assumed the task. She smiled brightly at his reflection in the mirror. He loved to brush her hair so his usurping was rapidly becoming a sort of ritual. Lizzy closed her eyes and sighed with contentment.

“It was a successful evening, would you agree William?”

“Unquestionably. Our guests were well fed and marvelously entertained. I harbored no doubts whatsoever that the Mistress of Pemberley would triumph admirably.”

“Thank you, love, however I deem a greater portion of the acclamation should go to Mrs. Reynolds and the rest of Pemberley’s outstanding staff. And no small amount of praise to you, dear husband.”

“I? Elizabeth, I did nothing but show up and partake.”

“Nonsense. You were a gracious host and stunned us all by your performance on the violin.” She looked at him then via the mirror with a playful lift of her lips. “You misrepresented the truth, dear husband. With only one brandy consumed you dazzled us with your skill. I was amazed and delighted, despite your previous assertions to the contrary!”

Darcy blushed and remained silent. Lizzy’s smile broadened, “So tell me about the one time at Cambridge and what influences were necessary.”

Darcy winced then briskly put the brush down, patted his wife’s shoulder and seriously pronounced it was time for bed becoming all ‘Master of Pemberley’ as Lizzy called it as he strode solemnly from the room. Lizzy laughed gaily and chased after him, cornering him by the fire. He valiantly attempted to dissuade her, but between tickling and pretend pouting he finally caved, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

Passing a hand over his face, he mumbled, “Perhaps when I am in my dotage I will live this down.” He glared at his grinning wife, “You really want to hear this?” She nodded and he groaned.

“During my years at University there was only three times I….overly indulged, shall we say. The last was one month prior to the end of my stay. Some thirty of the lads threw a farewell party of sorts for me, Lathan and a few other gents who were finishing as well. Sometime toward the wee hours of the morning, when we were all far into our cups, someone, I do not know whom which is just as well as I probably later would have murdered him, brilliantly decided that music was in order. Instruments of all sorts materialized from Lord knows where. I think I was the only one present at the time that had some musical talent, although it aided me naught in the state I was in.”

He paused and groaned again, putting his face in his hands. “We thought we were marvelous and played for hours, so the story goes. Frankly, few of us remember any of it.” He started laughing into his hands, “So stellar we credited our abilities that serenading the entire compound seemed a good plan, so we took our genius to the streets. The Dean dubbed us the ‘Squealing Pig Orchestra’ and immortalized us by creating a plaque with all our names on it. To this day it hangs in the Hall of Records and probably will long after I am dead.”

Lizzy was laughing so hard she was breathless. Darcy grabbed her and tossed her onto the bed. “You owe me now, Mrs. Darcy, and you shall pay.” She did, willingly.

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