The First Morning of Their Marriage

Posted on Saturday, 17-Oct-98

lizabeth Darcy woke up on the first morning of her marriage. She was curled up next to the sleeping figure of her husband, the warmth of his body in sharp contrast to the chill of the morning. She drew the covers round herself and snuggled up even closer. Her sudden movement wakened him. He started, and as he realised where he was, and who he was with, a smile crossed his lips. He gently kissed her and called her name, whispering softly in her ear of his love, holding her tight.

They lay like this for a while, but eventually he spoke to her: "Lizzy, I waited so long for last night! You don't know how hard it has been for me these last few months, waiting and wanting, imagining, dreaming, planning. Yet reality... so much better than dreams"

Elizabeth smiled, then pointedly looked at the state of the bedclothes, and then back to her husband. She suddenly blushed, looking a little self conscious. "What is wrong, my dearest?" He exclaimed.

"Well," she said awkwardly, with not a little embarrassment, "I must confess that I did enjoy myself a little more than is proper last night... ....I mean when we... ...I hope you don't think that I..." she faltered.

Fitzwilliam Darcy looked at his wife with incredulity. "Where on earth did you pick up the notion that you should not enjoy yourself thus?"

Lizzie did not answer, but quickly left the bed and fetched a book from a table by the bedside. "This was a wedding present from my mother."

Fitzwilliam Darcy groaned inwardly, it is not hard to imagine its contents, he thought. Reluctantly, he took the proffered book "A Guide to Marriage" by Mrs. M Forster. He looked at the woodcut likeness of a sour faced Mrs. Forster, and it did not fill him with confidence in his future happiness, if his wife were to take her book to heart. However, he was faced with a problem. If he was too fulsome in condemnation of the book, his wife would take it as an offence, and criticism of her family had caused him more pain in the past than he cared to remember, or that he wished to repeat. No, he would have to be careful. He needed time to think. A sudden thought took him, and a smile crossed his face. He, in his turn left the bed, retrieved a book from his bedside table, and handed it to his wife. She took it from him with no little amount of curiosity. It bore the simple title "Ars Amandi."

Fitzwilliam turned to his wife, and the smile that had crossed his face was now positively mischievous. "Well, my dear, I shall look through your book, if you will look through mine. I mean ours," he corrected himself. He then applied himself to Mrs. Forsters tome, speedily confirming his worst fears. Little gems of advice such as, "Never tell your husband you love him, it is undignified.... There are certain aspects of marriage that a Lady must endure, but never enjoy... The necessity for separate bedchambers..." were enough to build a conviction in his mind that this book was pernicious and to be discredited immediately. "Think man, think!" He tried to concentrate, but to no avail. He stole a glance at his wife who was absorbed in the book he had just given her. Her countenance contained a look of disbelief, her mouth had dropped, but she resolutely kept turning page after page. She saw him regarding her, and she recollected herself. Do married people...? Can people...? I ... How is it possible...? She buried herself in the book again, this time going back for a closer look.

Darcy pretended to look at "A Guide to Marriage" and idly, turned a few pages. Suddenly inspiration came to him. He put the book down and waited for his wife to do the same. It took quite some time actually, he noted with some degree of satisfaction. He looked at her. "Well?" he said.

She pursed her lips and tried to look disapproving, however it was not a terribly convincing display on her part. She tossed her head and said, "I shall have to spend more time in the reading of it," then blushed furiously at the implication of that. As if to deflect his attention, she continued "And how did you find Mrs. Forster's book?"

This was his chance. He pulled a long face, and said, "I am afraid, my dear that I do not approve. It is quite apparent from this, why your mother suffers from nerves. If your mother has taken the advice of this book to heart and suppressed expression of her natural feelings, it stands to reason that her nerves would be most seriously affected."

Elizabeth looked at her husband in something akin to shock. Her mother's nerves had always been an embarrassment to her, but she had never had an explanation of it before. Could this be the reason, rather than the character defect in her parent that she had hitherto suspected?

Fitzwilliam Darcy continued, "In any case, if you recall, yesterday, my love, in front of God and man, I vowed to love, honour and cherish you. You in turn, vowed to love, honour and obey me." Elizabeth inclined her head in assent. "I would therefore require your obedience in this, that while I am engaged in the activity of loving, honouring and cherishing, you are commanded to enjoy yourself as much as you wish! After all, I should hate to have you suffering from nerves." This last was delivered with a grin and followed with a kiss.

It was some little time later that Elizabeth Darcy drew breath and asked her husband if he were cold, and without waiting for a reply left the bed, placed Mrs. Bennet's present on the fire, where it presently caught alight. Despite his love of books, Fitzwilliam Darcy did not put up any pretense of disapproval. Elizabeth snuggled up to him and simply said, "Now we shall both be able to tell my mother that we found her present to be useful early on in our marriage, won't we my dear?"

Later in the morning the Darcys joined the other newly weds, the Bingleys at breakfast. Considering the previous night's activities, no one seemed willing to look the other in the eye. The gentlemen not wishing to smirk, and the ladies not wishing to blush. It was thus with a certain amount of relief that the gentlemen went to the billiard room, leaving the ladies in the drawing room.

Fitzwilliam Darcy whistled as he played his shots. Charles Bingley exclaimed, "Do you know Darcy, that in all the years that I have known you, this is the first time that I have heard you whistle!"

Darcy laughed and said expansively, "Well Charles, having married at the same time, you should well know the source of my good humour."

Charles face fell just a little. "I did enjoy myself, I must admit, but I am not so sure that my wife... perhaps I need more practice," his voice trailed off.

Darcy clapped his hand to his head, remembering Mrs. Bennet's present to Elizabeth. It was apparent that she had also given another copy to Jane. He quickly informed Bingley of the book and how it may have affected his wife. He also told of his story of Mrs. Bennet's nerves. Bingley thanked him and determined that night to set his wife right on the matter.

The next morning, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were first to the breakfast room, walking hand in hand, and they were half way through their meal when Mr. and Mrs. Bingley arrived. Darcy noted with some degree of satisfaction that they were arm in arm walking in, and gazing into each other's eyes in a manner that was positively indecent. It was quite apparent that Mrs. Forster's book had again provided fuel for the fire. Darcy gazed at his wife, and from her expression, gathered that she had told her sister about prevention of nerves and was glad of the results.

The next morning, the Darcy's were to leave Netherfield for Pemberley. So Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were to come to visit in the afternoon to see their second daughter off.

The newly weds were in the music room when Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were announced. Mrs. Bennet rushed in, giving her compliments to the gentlemen, and then proceeded to fling her arms around her daughters declaring "You cannot imagine how my poor nerves have troubled me these past two nights thinking what you must be going through."

At the mention of the word "nerves," both young ladies turned bright crimson, now being fully convinced of the causes of nervous complaints.

The two young gentlemen, on the other hand, seemed to have suddenly developed a simultaneous coughing fit. Darcy recovered himself first, and blamed it on an attack of the hiccups, offering to take Bingley to the kitchen for some water. They left hurriedly, much to the amusement of Mr. Bennet. As soon as the heavy doors had closed, the servants were treated to the unusual sight of two gentlemen rolling on the floor in apparent hysterical laughter, with Bingley moaning, "My nerves! My nerves! Darcy look what you have done to me!"

Darcy just thought, I think I am going to like being married.