Beloved,
I woke early, as is my usual wont, not that you would necessarily have ascertained this fact based on these past two days! You were sleeping peacefully and absolutely beautifully. I knew I would be unable to resist waking you if I tarried any longer. I wished to check on the new colt. I will not be long. As much as I love my horses, they in no way compare to you, my precious wife. So strong is my desire to kiss you—even as I write this note I am overwhelmed by the need to do so—that my visit to the stables will be brief. I love you so, my darling.
William
She had no sooner finished reading when she heard the faint squeak of the door opening. She bolted up and rushed across the room without pausing to determine if it was he, not that anyone else would be entering their bedchamber. It was Darcy and he had only opened the door enough to peek his head in. His face lit up at seeing her, but she so surprised him that he literally fell against the jamb when she flew into him. He caught her with one arm, the other desperately grabbing at the wall to keep from falling over. He involuntarily grunted and winced when his back made contact with the hard wood.
“Oh, William! I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” She stepped back a pace so he could right himself, her hands on his face.
“No more than a bruise, my love,” he laughed. He shut the door and took her into his arms, kissing her soundly. He reluctantly let go but took her hand and walked over to the chair by the fire. He sat down and began pulling off his boots.
“Let me,” she said, and knelt down in front of him, pushing his hands away and removed his boots.
He leaned back and watched her, a happy smile on his face. She stole a glance up at him, really examining him for the first time, and paused in her task, mouth dropping open.
“What is it?” he asked.
“What in the world are you wearing?” she questioned him in astonishment. Elizabeth would never in a million years have imagined the impeccable Mr. Darcy in such attire. His shirt was of coarse linen discolored from old sweat, open at the neck and without cravat; his breeches were stained with mud and had actual tears in the knees; and his thick coat was threadbare with two buttons missing! Even more incredible to her was how alluring he appeared. The rough clothing, his face unshaven with cheeks flushed from the cold, mussed hair clinging damply to his neck, and the musky smell of horse and earth combined to elicit an odd response from her senses.
He looked down at himself, having totally forgotten what he was wearing in his yearning to see his wife, and blushed scarlet. He stood up quickly. “Forgive me, Elizabeth! I intended to clean up and change,” he spluttered. “I only meant to make sure you were still asleep. Give me a moment…” He turned toward his dressing room, but Elizabeth snatched his hand.
She stood up and placed her hands on his chest. He watched her with a mingled expression of bafflement and mortification. “I did not say I disapproved,” she said softly, “In fact, you are rather fetching. So… rugged and… wild!”
He stared at her, a tiny frown crossing his features. “Are you making fun of me?”
She stepped closer and ran her fingers along his jawbone. “Do I look as though I am teasing you?”
“No,” he swallowed. “However, I do not comprehend how my work clothes would captivate you. I wear these when I train the horses. I am dirty and… unorganized!” She had moved even nearer and was kissing his neck. “Elizabeth, you cannot be serious!” He was aghast.
She spoke softly against his ear, “Did you not tell me that you first knew you loved me when I walked to Netherfield to see Jane? Was I not wild and disheveled? You confessed you found me attractive, sir. How desirable did you find me then?” she inquired with a gentle nibble to his lobe.
“Exceedingly so,” he breathed. He grasped her elbows and pulled back so he could see her face. “So, you are telling me that all this time I only needed to don these garments and I would have driven you mad with longing?” He grinned and arched one brow.
“Perhaps,” she answered pertly, “I guess we shall never know. It is, however, currently having a tremendously positive affect on me.” The ministrations of her hands proved her sincerity. She had untucked his shirt while she spoke and was running her palms up and down his back with ever increasing urgency.
He laughed and shook his head. “I cannot help but visualize all the money I could have saved on clothing if I had only known this fact.” Then he kissed her and willingly surrendered to her wishes. “I am beginning to wonder about you, Mrs. Darcy. First you confess that you enjoyed the forceful lovemaking of two days ago, and now you are driven to heights of passion by the mere appearance of me in my rough attire.”
“You married a country girl, sir. I am enchanted by raw nature and unpretentious adornments. You, my love, are astonishingly alluring and arousing. It is nearly too much incitement for a simple girl like me to withstand.” The truth of her teasing words was quickly proved.
They loved quickly, furiously, and rapturously, not bothering to remove clothing. Darcy collapsed, rolling to the side with Lizzy still held in a snug embrace. She nestled close, burying her face into his shoulder. Darcy was exhausted and, despite lying sideways on the bed half clothed, felt sleep creeping over him. Lizzy rose up on an elbow and smiled as she brushed mussed hair off his sweaty forehead. He smiled back, caressing her cheek gently.
“You can take these off now,” she whispered, tugging on the fabric of his shirt.
He laughed, “Thank you for your permission to do so; however, I now find I do not have the energy to expend on the task.”
“Allow me then,” and she sat up, first addressing the breeches that were bunched absurdly at his knees. She studied him as she worked, not with desire for the moment but with simple delight regarding his figure. “It is amazing, is it not?”
“What is?”
“How our bodies are designed so perfectly for each other. The pleasure we derive from the other’s touch and appearance.” She blushed and would not meet his eyes. “Does it surprise you, William, or… disturb you in any way at how forward I am and… how wanton you make me?”
“Elizabeth, I am so far removed from being disturbed by your desire for me that there is not an adequate word for the emotion. As to being surprised, well, yes I am; however, not in the way you intimate.” She looked at him quizzically, and he smiled. “I am not surprised by your passion, my love. It was your passion that attracted me to you and captivated me. Passion for your family, for your opinions, and for life in total. I always knew you would be a passionate lover. My surprise is that I am the man whom you have gifted with your passion and that I am capable of inciting you so. I am not worthy of it and do not deserve you.”
“You are too harsh in your self-assessment, my love. I may be passionate in the ways you have listed, yet you seem to be alluding to the fact that my ardor could be inspired by anyone, and I can assure you that is not the case.”
He paled at her words. “No, Elizabeth, I did not mean…”
She shushed him and tugged on his hands until he sat up next to her. She undressed him and then removed her own rumpled nightgown. She kissed him thoroughly before pulling back slightly and gazing into his clear eyes. “Now, my heart, I insist you give me what was so cruelly taken from me this morning.”
“What is that?”
“You. In bed naked next to me and holding me so close that we are as one.”
Darcy smiled brightly. “Ah, if only all the demands made of me were so straightforward and gratifying to fulfill.”
Mrs. Darcy’s first complete day as Mistress of Pemberley certainly began wonderfully enough. Darcy seemed in no hurry to leave their bed once he was back in it with his wife now awake. They cuddled and talked for some time until they were both ready for some breakfast. This they took in his sitting room.
Lizzy had only given this room a cursory glance the previous evening, so she took the time to examine it now. Like Darcy’s bedchamber, his sitting room had been decorated in rich colors of fores
t green and burgundy. Large windows facing to the east offered illumination and a spectacular view of the sunrise. The furnishings were of a lighter wood than in the bedroom. The chairs and sofas were universally soft and comfortable. It was an inviting room; however, she was left with the impression that it was not much used.
“Do you spend much time in this room, William?”
He looked up from his newspaper. “Actually, no.” he answered, gazing around as if puzzled by the fact. He frowned. “I am not really sure why. I have tended to spend most of my time in my study working. When I relax in the evenings, it is either with Georgiana in the music room or parlor, or alone in my bed reading.” He smiled then and caressed his wife’s hand. “Of course now I shall not be alone, and for that I am eternally grateful.”
She smiled back. “Well, I like this room very much.” She turned a serious face to her husband and he put down his paper. “I have been giving this some thought. In regard to our conversation yesterday, I honestly do not see myself using my chambers all that much. I cannot imagine not wanting to be with you awake or asleep.” She flushed slightly and dropped her eyes demurely. Darcy glowed with satisfaction.
“In truth, the only time I can see myself needing to be apart from you is when our babies are born and I will need to be close to the nursery.” The mention of babies caused Darcy’s heart to leap with a jolt of bliss. “As for having my own sitting room, I cannot remotely imagine the need. You told me once that your mother had a private parlor for when she entertained her lady friends. Were you referring to her sitting room way up here?”
“No. Her parlor is on the second floor, across from my study. It is mostly unused now and I had intended on showing it to you today. It is yours to do with as you wish.”
Lizzy nodded. “This is what I propose. The parlor is appreciated and I can envision myself needing it from time to time. When Jane visits or Georgiana and I wish to engage in private talk.” She smiled mischievously. “The bedchamber, I would like to redecorate, although there is no need to rush into it nor will I alter much since it will be used so rarely. As for the sitting room, we can ignore it. No point in expending time and money on a room that will sit there unoccupied.”
“Elizabeth, you know that the expense is not an issue.”
“William, please. I appreciate that it is not as far as you are concerned. However, I cannot simply change the way I am, nor do I wish to. Perhaps in time I will accustom myself to my new station in life, but be patient with me.”
Darcy leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Forgive me, dearest. Naturally I want you to be comfortable here and to make choices that will ease your transition. I’ll tell you what, when the decorator arrives next week, you and he can sit down and plan together. Whatever you wish to do is fine with me.”
Lizzy laughed. “Really William, you are far too trusting! What if I decide to choose Scottish plaids or Oriental motifs?”
He cringed, “Point taken. Very well then, we shall meet with the decorator. Do you have any opinions on these rooms?” He swept his hand around the sitting room and toward the bedchamber.
“As I told you last night, the bedchamber is perfect. Truly. You and I appear to have similar tastes. I do not wish to change anything, although I would like to see about purchasing an overly large bearskin rug and big fluffy pillows,” she said with a suggestive smirk and risqué giggle. He grinned.
She continued, “The sitting room is lovely. What do you think about us using it more often? We can be casual here whereas we cannot if we are downstairs. We could each have a small desk here, perhaps a couple of bookcases for easy access to our favorite books. Oh, and how about a sideboard for our breakfasts? I so enjoy this time in the morning with you.”
“Those are excellent suggestions, my love. Consider it done.”
“One other request. I wish to have the landscape hung in here. We must share the joy in the reminder of the day we finally declared our love.”
He grasped her hands and pulled her onto his lap, holding her tightly. “Agreed.” He commenced lavishing her neck and shoulders with kisses and Lizzy sighed with satisfaction.
It was midmorning before they left their chambers. Lizzy had expressed concern that the servants would think ill of her for languishing in their rooms half the day, but Darcy just laughed. “The servants are doubtless consumed with their daily tasks and are giving no thought to our whereabouts. If they are, well, it is our honeymoon so they will understand.” Lizzy blushed profusely, which made Darcy laugh even harder.
First he sought out Mrs. Reynolds, asking her to arrange for Mrs. Darcy to meet the rest of the staff whenever it was convenient. In the meantime, he told her, they would be touring the rooms on the second floor.
Between Lizzy’s brief visit in September and Darcy’s continual sharing with her over the past two months, she had a fair grasp of how the manor was designed. Architecturally the house was English baroque, built in the early 1600s over twenty years as an extensive addition to the original house erected a hundred years earlier. That earlier home of the Darcys was now the northern annex, renovated to include the conservatory, grand ballroom, game rooms, and formal dining room on the lower level, and guest quarters above.
The newer mansion was a perfect square with an inner courtyard of cobbled stone in the precise center. Facing in every direction of the compass, each wing offered astounding views of the breathtaking scenery. The entire structure sat on a gentle slope, giving a slightly uneven appearance from a distance. The main entrance, with four ionic columns supporting a generous porch, faced west with the River Derwent yards away past a walled garden and grassy sheep-dotted expanse.
Due to the slope, this side of the house appeared taller with the ground or basement level completely visible. The columned portico with massive double doors opening into the grand foyer with elaborately painted ceiling, ornate carvings, and marble flooring was actually on the ground level, the foyer vaulting a full two stories. The wide stairway led to the main level where the family rooms are located; the ground floor beyond the foyer was exclusively servants’ quarters, kitchen and storage, wine cellar, and the like.
On the main level, or first storey, were the library, Darcy’s study, several parlors, the music room, sculpture gallery, and guest quarters, among numerous other rooms. Lizzy and her aunt and uncle toured parts of this level during their visit. It would be weeks before Lizzy fully realized how few of the rooms she had actually seen, because the manor was so massive.
The entire third floor was bedchambers. The Master and Mistress’s suite covered the whole south-facing wing, Darcy’s bedchamber in the southeast corner. This location was ideal, providing a stunning view from numerous windows and a large southern balcony of the vast lawns, gardens, ponds, fountains, and the forest to the hilly east, as well as bathing the chamber with the sunrise and capturing woodland-scented breezes.
For the day’s tour, they started in the library. Lizzy had seen it before, in September, and had been quite impressed. The room was enormous with ceiling-to-floor bookcases, almost all filled. Tall ladders on rollers allowed one to reach the highest shelves. Darcy explained how the volumes were organized, each case having a letter designation. He showed her the system of cards in a cabinet that cataloged the books and directed where to find each one. She had never heard of such a technique and found it fascinating. Several chairs and sofas with tables and lamps graced the room. The windows were tall and wide, as all the windows were at Pemberley, allowing incredible views in all directions and blazes of sunlight. She could not help but picture her father in this room and said as much to Darcy.
“Yes,” he said. “I deem your father will set one foot in here, and we shall not see him for the length of his visit! It was probably the lure of Pemberley’s library which principally swayed him to accept my proposal for your hand.”
Lizzy laughed. “Well, that and the fact that I would undoubtedly have run off with you anyway if he had not consented.”
She s
poke teasingly and absently, but her words struck Darcy and he lightly grasped her chin turning her toward him. “Would you have, Lizzy?” he asked huskily. “Run away with me, I mean.”
“Oh! I… Well, it never came to that did it, William? Yet now that I think about it, I remember how worried I was when you took so long in his study. I knew it was silly, that my father would never purposely refuse you, knowing how much I loved you… But then he did not know I loved you yet.” She shook her head. “It is all such a jumble, really. I do know that I had to be with you, would die if I could not be. So, yes, I would have run away with you if he had refused. I would have had no choice.” She smiled up at her husband and he kissed her, saying nothing.
She cocked her head to the side and began playing with the buttons on his jacket. “So, tell me, Mr. Darcy, which category do I look under for the special books in Pemberley’s library?”
He flushed and swallowed audibly. “Those books are kept in my private collection in the study, under lock and key.”
“Shall I be entrusted with a key to this cabinet?” She fluttered her lashes coquettishly.
“I shall contemplate the request, Mrs. Darcy. You are dangerous enough as it is without adding further fuel to the fire!”
Next he led her to the music room. An older pianoforte sat here alongside an enormous gilded harp. A glass case housed a collection of unusual instruments. Darcy explained that many of them were ethnic musical apparatus picked up from other countries over the centuries. Propped in one corner were a beautiful cello and a violin. Lizzy asked who played them.
“Richard plays the cello and is quite talented actually. He and Georgiana have several pieces they play together beautifully. I play the violin, but not very well. Never one to practice,” he said in a perfect imitation of his aunt. “My mother insisted I study music but I could never control my clumsy fingers to even pound out my scales on the piano, so she gave up. I had limited success with the violin.”
Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One Page 11