Miss Darcy Falls in Love

by Sharon Lathan

  His smile was brilliant. He kissed each palm and then the wrists, squeezing firmly. “And I love you, Georgiana. Forever.”

  Codetta

  June 1820

  Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor and privilege to formally present to the assembly, for the first time of a multitude to come, Viscount and Viscountess Nell!”

  The Earl of Essenton swept his arm high in the air and stepped aside as the double doors were simultaneously pulled open by two livery garbed footmen. Nearly two hundred people bowed and curtsied in unison, those proper genuflections quickly followed by cheers and applause. Sebastian and Georgiana Butler walked through the gaping doors attempting to maintain a pose of stately decorum but failing miserably.

  How could they not smile ridiculously and walk with jaunty steps?

  This was their wedding day!

  Of course, Sebastian and Georgiana had been beaming and treading on air ever since that rainy April day in Paris. They glowed and laughed during the journey back to England, ceasing their perpetual giddiness only because they were forced to separate. Georgiana diverted to Hertfordshire to meet her family and attend the wedding of Kitty Bennet to Major General Randall Artois. Sebastian parted from the woman he loved reluctantly and would not have delayed the required formalities with Mr. Darcy except that he deemed it wise to speak with his father first.

  Lord Essenton, to put it mildly, was less than pleased with his son. The earl had fumed and lectured for hours over the Lady Cassandra incident; she was already married to Lord Everest. Sebastian wisely opted to remain mum while his father released his pent up anger. Once that was out of his system—Sebastian granting him two days to punish with silent scowls directed at his son—Sebastian requested an audience with his father and delivered his prepared speech culminating with his betrothal to Miss Darcy.

  He tried to gloss over the fact that, at least to his way of thinking, the engagement was not official until Mr. Darcy agreed. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lord Matlock had given their approval and this was technically adequate since the former was Miss Darcy’s legal guardian equally with Mr. Darcy and the latter was granted guardian status when Miss Darcy was left in his care while in Europe. Sebastian was respectful to the rules enough so as to need Mr. Darcy’s blessing, but not so old fashioned as to claim certain rights of the betrothed, that primarily being the honor of stealing the occasional kiss. Ships provide excellent dark cubbies to hide in for lengthy kisses, the voyage across the Channel exhilarating for the young couple!

  Lord Essenton, however, latched on to the minor point as a major loophole in the agreement, tossed every available titled lady into Sebastian’s face, and recited dowry amounts as if reading from a ledger. Eventually, sheer willpower and the figurative beating down of the earl’s stamina when Sebastian refused to budge won the day. At least Sebastian liked to think his strength of conviction and backbone in the face of a vigorous assault swayed his father and that it was not the size of Miss Darcy’s dowry—that having increased dramatically with additions from Lord Matlock, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Dr. George Darcy.

  Whatever the case, by the time the entire family met at Pemberley in June, Lord Essenton was as polite and warm as he could manage. Miss Darcy was accepted, and although Sebastian knew his father would never admit that he was charmed by her and impressed by Mr. Darcy and Pemberley, it was obvious to Sebastian.

  Confronting the reputedly formidable Mr. Darcy was a walk in the park after Lord Essenton, but Sebastian was a nervous wreck nonetheless. His greatest concern was not whether Mr. Darcy would permit Sebastian’s request to marry Miss Darcy, but rather how he would receive the news that his sister was accepted as a student at the Conservatoire in Paris. To his surprise and relief, Mr. Darcy was overjoyed and swollen with pride at the idea. On top of that, Mr. Darcy was pleased with Sebastian as Georgiana’s chosen man. In fact, he was ecstatic! Everyone on Georgiana’s side of the family was ecstatic and with the exception of his father—who was rarely ecstatic about anything—Sebastian’s family felt the same way.

  With the final formality attended to, all that was left was to plan the wedding!

  The combined forces of Lady Essenton, Lady Warrow, Lady Matlock, Lady Simone Fitzwilliam, and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy set to the task with vigor. At times, Georgiana felt superfluous, and in the face of such extreme enthusiasm, she struggled to exert her wishes or thoughts. All in all, however, the wedding plans proceeded as Georgiana and Sebastian desired.

  The noontime ceremony was held at St. Giles-in-the-Fields in the London Borough of Camden, an elegant yet modest church that fit Sebastian and Georgiana’s preference for an intimate wedding. The Essenton family worshiped at St. Giles-in-the-Fields upon occasion, but Sebastian especially loved the church’s pipe organ and the moment Georgiana laid eyes on the instrument and heard the organist play, she agreed this was the sanctuary for them to be joined in holy matrimony.

  Due to the numerous close, personal friends of the Marchioness of Warrow the choices for where to hold the wedding dinner and soiree were myriad. Yet as soon as the estate of the Earl of Mansfield was mentioned, Sebastian and Georgiana gasped, no other options then considered.

  Perched on a high ridge overlooking the lake and lush grounds of Hampstead Heath, Kenwood House, the white brick, Ionic columned neoclassic villa belonging to Lord Mansfield of Scotland boasted a sloping garden of extraordinary beauty. It was onto the cultivated lawn that the newly married Viscount and Viscountess stepped, arm in arm exiting the flower-encircled, glass-paned doors of the orangery to greet their friends and family.

  The celebrating continued long after Sebastian and Georgiana waved adieu from the white-ribbon- and flower-adorned carriage; their departure, timed as the setting sun cast a ruddy glow across the landscape, was lavished with high fanfare and well wishes shouted until they disappeared from view. For several minutes, the newlyweds dreamily stared at each other while relishing the quiet, serene atmosphere of the enclosed coach. Neither could say they were exhausted, but it had been an eventful day with constant bustling since dawn, so it did feel wonderful to relax and breathe.

  Sebastian moved first by lifting Georgiana’s hand to tenderly plant an abundance of kisses starting with the finger adorned with three gold rings. With his other arm he encircled her shoulders and drew her body closer to his side.

  “Was your day everything you have ever dreamed of, my lady?”

  “More, my lord. I do not believe my imagination is vivid enough to dream a day as perfect as today was.”

  “And it is not over,” he whispered into her ear, his lips gently caressing the sensitive region.

  Georgiana instantly reacted with a gasping sigh and limp droop into his arms, her brain buzzing pleasantly and vocal cords only able to emit a weak murmur. “The song you played was… indescribable. I am not sure I thanked you adequately or conveyed how deeply it touched me. I will treasure the memory and composition forever, Sebastian.”

  “As I will your song to me.” He pulled away from her neck, smiling into her eyes. “You realize, do you not, that our surprise gifts to each other was our first performance together?”

  “No, I actually had not thought of it that way! And we received our first encore request!”

  “Indeed we did. Your choice of Psalm sixty-three was excellent other than the fact that I grew misty-eyed and struggled to contain my professional composure. That psalm will forever belong to you, dearest wife.”

  “I think we should have all three printed and framed for posterity sake.”

  “Marvelous idea! Ah, Georgiana, I love you so! I am the happiest man in the world and this day has been the finest in my life.”

  “And it is not over,” she repeated his previous phrase, blushing at the implications of that sentence even while her heart began to pound.

  “No, it is not over by a long shot,” he replied, the hand stroking over her jaw and cheek holding her fast as he bent to deliver a searing kiss.

  It was not the first
intense kiss they had shared, not even the tenth or twentieth for that matter. This particular kiss would end when they reached the palatial townhouse of Lady Warrow, where they were to spend their wedding night, but the promise of greater fulfillment of the surging desire that they had carefully bottled for months would soon be attained, adding a dimension to this kiss that was breathtakingly beautiful while also slightly overwhelming.

  Georgiana broke the kiss, Sebastian simply traveling on to other parts of her face before resuming his oral investigation of her neck and shoulders. His boldness and tactics were new, rendering Georgiana breathless and dazed. She felt an uncontrollable urge to rip into the clothes keeping her from his body, an urge dizzying in how it exhilarated and frightened her.

  “What were you and Lord de Marcov in deep discussion about that had you flushed?” she blurted, not even sure where the question came from but needing to say something to restore her scattered wits.

  He chuckled against the skin at her collarbone and shook his head. “I am positive I cannot repeat most of it to a lady. Let’s just say he was offering me wedding night advice.”

  “Oh.”

  “Adrien has only been married a short while, but his knowledge of what constitutes a successful wedding night is vast.”

  “He was telling you… specifics?”

  Sebastian looked at her shocked expression, his face amused. “Some specifics, yes. Being French means de Marcov is not as inhibited as I. He loves to harass me, if you have not noticed. Good-naturedly, of course, but since his experience does trump mine when it comes to this topic, I figure it is good to listen. Within reason.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Mostly things designed to fluster me rather than assist, hence why I was flushed. But he did remind me that a new bride is to be handled with tenderness and selfless focus to her needs, but that in the morning she is to look ‘properly ravished’ as he puts it. I rather like that term and shall do my utmost to ensure the reality.”

  Georgiana had no response, other than to blush to her toes. The images such a phrase conjured increased her palpitations and shortness of breath.

  “Trust me, dearest wife,” he spoke softly, “my urgency to make love with you will not overrule my senses. You have nothing to fear or be nervous about. I promise tonight will be as wonderful as today and as fulfilling to whatever dreams you may have.”

  She remained rosy and trembling, but smiled at the sincerity on his face. “I trust you and never could fear what we have together,” she assured, both of them remembering every kiss and embrace they had enjoyed since the combustible exchange when he proposed before the fire in Paris.

  “Indeed, I believe we have proven the ardent nature of our connection.” He stroked the back of his hand down the slope of her neck and brushed across her décolletage, Georgiana sighing and pushing her chest against his hand without conscious thought. Sebastian grinned and chuckled with satisfaction. “Yes, we shall be marvelous together, Georgiana. Nevertheless, I did choose to spend tonight at my grandmother’s house rather than the Essenton townhouse in Kensington so we would be alone. Since I was young, I tended to stay there when in London without the rest of my family for a reason I am sure you will appreciate.”

  After that cryptic remark he bent to kiss her, within seconds Georgiana weak and heated so that she welcomed the carriage stopping at Lady Warrow’s house so she could breathe the fresh air of the evening.

  Other than the butler, who greeted them with minimal fuss, they saw no other servants. Lady Warrow planned to stay at Kenwood House for the next several days, allowing the “young lovers to have their way without interference” as she told Sebastian. She went on to covertly hint of the best places within the house for secret trysts! When she reached the point of describing one bedroom with a cushioned chaise possessing a nice springiness and situated in the room so as to view the sky while “engaged in the act of love,” Sebastian choked and with a strangled thanks, Grandmother dashed from the room! Of course, later he had sought out the chamber and chaise she mentioned, just in case.

  Arm in arm, Sebastian led up the stairs and down the passageway, his voice light and relaxed, putting Georgiana at ease. Pausing at the end of the corridor, he turned toward her and clasped her hands between his, placing them against his heart.

  “This door leads to your dressing room where your maid is waiting to assist you. I shall be in the room beyond, probably pacing anxiously for you to return to me,” he said as he laughed, kissing her hands. “Seriously, take as much time as you need, my love. I only have one request.”

  “That is?”

  “I have a fantasy. Well, I have several fantasies, but one is to release your hair myself. Will you leave it up for me?”

  “Here I thought you were going to ask something difficult,” she teased.

  “Thank you. Now I will let you go, as painful as it is, the sooner to have you back with me. Take your time but hurry.”

  A half hour later Georgiana heard music. Piano music. Her fingers stilled at her neck, the rose-scented perfume soaking into her skin and smile spreading over her face. Suddenly, she was in a rush to complete her toilette and join her husband, excitement warming her belly and driving away the jitters.

  “Just pin it loosely,” she instructed her maid, “so it will be easy to let down. Use these clips here.” She handed a trio of combs prettily decorated with an array of colorful flowers and gems, the wide accessories adequate to hold her thick tresses temporarily. Satisfied with that, she excused her maid, waiting until alone to examine herself one last time in the mirror.

  With Lizzy’s assistance, she had an extensive trousseau fit for a new bride. Lacy undergarments and gauzy gowns galore! Each garment was exquisite, this one blue silk with gathers and ruffles and trimmings designed to draw attention to her figure while covering little of it. The sheer robe provided infinitesimal assistance in concealment but enough to provide a particle of modesty. Yet despite the flush to her cheeks, Georgiana did tarry a moment longer to perkily adjust her breasts inside the bodice and slip the neckline an iota lower.

  Sebastian had barely begun the second piece when she opened the door to view the comforting scene. The bedchamber was enormous, richly decorated in ivory, gold, and pale greens. It was dominated by a massive bed of ash, the mauve and gold counterpane folded neatly at the foot of the thick mattress, white sheets and plump pillows inviting. Candles burned, their numbers adequate to dispel most of the shadows and accent the golden highlights in her husband’s blond hair.

  He sat on the bench of a beautiful pianoforte with his back to the threshold where she stood watching him play. The song was one of the compositions they had worked on together, from start to finish, a lively tune written in one afternoon while they were in a silly mood more intent on laughing than composing anything earth-shattering. His hands moved over the keys fluidly, his body relaxed and swaying with the rhythm. Georgiana marveled, as she always did, at how casually he played even the most intense musical score. Never did he seem the slightest bit anxious or worried. It was incredible.

  Smiling, the internal flutters of nervousness abated in the soothing flow of music, she closed the door silently and padded on bare feet over the plush carpet. His jacket and waistcoat were off, the muscles of his shoulders discernible under the linen shirt and thrilling to observe, but it was not until she sat onto the bench beside him with her back to the piano keys that she realized his cravat was discarded. Her eyes dropped to the open collar of his shirt, scanning the strong lines of his neck down to the skin below his throat, where strands of tawny hair the color of his eyebrows were visible.

  A man without cravat and waistcoat was not a totally new phenomenon, but seeing a field worker or her brother partially exposed was vastly different than the man she was wildly in love with. It affected her in several astounding ways. Mesmerized, she was not aware that the music had stopped until his fingers stroked over her jaw.

  “You are utterly breathtaking.�
�

  She lifted her gaze to his face, the depths of love and desire shining from his eyes reigniting the quivers of nerves. Or perhaps it was largely desire that rushed through her torso. Clearly, they were both equally affected and lost in enchanted contemplation of their casual attire and the hints of bodies revealed for some time, until she broke the silence.

  “Only you would have a pianoforte in your bedroom.”

  “When I was eleven my grandmother purchased a pianoforte for me and placed it into this room so I could play whenever in the mood,” he explained, speaking softly. His gaze left her face to follow the trail blazed by his hand sliding down her left arm to where her hands lay in her lap. “It was a way to circumvent my father’s restrictions and a prime reason I chose to stay in this house whenever possible. Fortunately, this house was purchased by Lady Warrow independently, after her third husband, Lord Warrow, passed on, so Lord Essenton had no grounds to refuse my visiting.” He tickled his fingertips over her knuckles and fingers while he talked, tingles shooting along her skin and up her arms, finally slipping under her right hand and drawing it to his mouth, warm breath stimulating the fine hairs to rise as he concluded, “He never knew of the pianoforte.”

  “I think Lady Warrow enjoys breaking restrictions,” Georgiana shakily asserted.

  “Noticed that, have you?” he asked with a laugh, kissing her palm. “In this case, I am abundantly thankful. I cannot recollect how often I woke with a score playing in my head and was able to immediately play it and jot it onto a sheet. It is convenient, to say the least.”

  “I wish I had thought of the same at Pemberley.”

  He kissed the bounding pulse in her wrist. “In Paris, I have my piano in the parlor attached to my bedchamber for easy access. I can play whenever I want and wearing whatever I want,” he finished hoarsely, delivering a sucking kiss to her pinkie and then pressing her hand firmly against his heart.

  Georgiana gasped at the heat scorching through the linen covering his chest, her eyelids fluttering and instinctively leaning closer. “A piano nearby is a nice idea, but I am glad it is in a separate room, so if you get a two in the morning inspiration you can pound away without waking me.”