Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One

by Sharon Lathan

  They passed the door to his dressing room and Lizzy started giggling. “What have I done now to amuse you, my love?”

  Still laughing, Lizzy replied, “I had a sudden vision of barging into your dressing room, which is only fair I might add, and catching you in a state of undress. How would your valet respond to that?”

  Darcy smiled, “Samuel is exceedingly prim and proper, and unmarried. I believe I have upset him enough these past two days by not adhering to my strict schedule and usual decorum. He probably would suffer a heart seizure!” He glanced at his grinning wife. “Are you giving me fair warning, my love? If so I should prepare Samuel for the eventual improprieties of my wife. He is an excellent valet and I would hate to lose him.”

  Lizzy lifted her chin impudently. “Prepare him as you see fit, Mr. Darcy, but do not expect any fair warnings from me. Sneaking and surprising are the rules of this game.”

  Dinner, naturally, was delicious. The servants left the room, returning with the next courses only when Darcy rang for them, but he kept his seat and did not torture his poor wife. They were both quite happy so the atmosphere was lively.

  “Dare I inquire, dear husband, what the itinerary is for the rest of the evening? Or had you planned a recap of our after-lunch activity?” she asked with a playful flutter of her lashes.

  Darcy lifted one eyebrow. “Said activity is never far from my mind, dearest; however, I am willing to ponder alternative pursuits, provided you are involved.”

  “William, I would like to take a walk. We have been cooped up all day, marvelous as it has been.” She gazed at him warmly and caressed his knee. “Nevertheless, I am feeling the need for some fresh air.”

  He rose and bowed gallantly, saying, “I am yours to command, beloved. A walk it shall be.”

  They exited the dining room and discovered the butler standing at attention. He bowed. “Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy. Sir, I have an envelope that Mr. Keith gave me to convey to you when you finished dining.” He handed Darcy a large envelope, which Darcy glanced at quickly, seeming instantly to glean the contents.

  “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. Would you please place this on my desk for now? Could you then please ensure the terrace lamps are lit and retrieve our gloves, my coat, and Mrs. Darcy’s pelisse? We will be in the gallery.”

  “At once, sir,” and with another bow to each, he left.

  Darcy took her hand and led her to the gallery. Lizzy had not been in this room since her visit in September and had almost forgotten how astounding the works of art were. There was so much beauty in this one room that she imagined one could never fully absorb it all. Darcy strolled alongside her, offering insights into and the history of several of the pieces. He told her that his grandfather had first begun collecting the marble statues after he and Darcy’s grandmother had taken a trip to Italy. His father had acquired a few pieces, but it was Darcy who was especially stirred by sculpture. He had added more than half the pieces. He was so enamored with the art form that he had insisted on a bust of Georgiana. She had agreed but finagled him to also have a bust made of himself, hence the image before which Lizzy now stood.

  Lizzy was as enraptured by the image now as she had been three months ago. It fascinated her how cold stone could appear so alive. How was it possible to capture his beauty, strength, and gentleness in a rock? Darcy had been distracted by a footman bringing their coats, so he was surprised to see his wife staring so intently at his likeness.

  Lizzy was mesmerized. She sensed his presence near her and said dreamily, “Your face was the cause of my separation from Mrs. Reynolds and my aunt and uncle. I could not look away. I know now that I was already falling in love with you, but I had not admitted it to myself. Being here at Pemberley, surrounded by the beauty of your home, focused my tumultuous emotions. However, it was as I beheld this,” she reached up and brushed the shimmering cheeks and lips of the bust, “your face so gentle and loving even in stone, taunting me it seemed with a fond gaze, that I desperately wished to be favored with… I knew then that I hopelessly loved you.”

  She turned to him, his flesh-and-blood face so close to her own, with those impossible blue eyes piercing her soul and his countenance resplendent with emotion. He cupped her face in his hands, caressing soft thumbs over her cheeks. He opened his mouth as if to speak but words failed. He swallowed, tears threatening to spill. Lizzy linked her hands behind his neck, drawing him to her. “I love you, my darling, with all my soul,” she whispered. They kissed then, a slow, tender kiss not of passion but of deep faithfulness and belonging. He enfolded her in his arms, embracing securely.

  Eventually Darcy spoke, “Shall we stroll in the moonlight, my heart? It is cold out tonight so I shall have ready excuses to hold you and kiss you to keep you warm.”

  She laughed. “As if you need valid excuses.”

  It was a cold night but clear with the moon at three-quarters and bright. Billions of stars were visible. They walked leisurely, hand in hand, along the wide terrace that ran the length of the southern side of the manor. Several stone benches and secluded alcoves with arbors of trailing vines were spaced along the railing. Darcy unerringly led her to the eastern edge of the terrace and down the steps to the moonlit lawn beyond. He crossed the grass to a looming wall of brick and climbing vines that sheltered an array of pathways weaving through a secluded garden.

  “This garden,” he informed her as they strolled, “is considerably smaller than the ones located to the southeast. It is a private garden for the family only. I come here most nights to breathe the fresh air and gaze at the sky before retiring. Mr. Clark knows it is a habit of mine, so he typically will wheel the protected flowers out from the conservatory until after I complete my stroll. You will find, my love, that he is an incredible gardener who has trained his staff well. No seasons pass without at least a few blooms and greenery.”

  He chose a trail lined by a row of rosebushes, currently without blooms, of course. The gravel passageway twisted and turned until finally terminating at a clearing with a large gurgling fountain of four sea nymphs pouring water from pitchers. The fountain and pebbled expanse were completely shaded by an enormous, ancient oak tree and bordered with a profusion of vines and shrubs. Most were dormant, but the fragrance and color of the protected winter blooms of jasmine, camellia, hyacinth, paper-white narcissus, and hellebore filled the air. The only illumination was the moon and starlight shimmering and reflecting off the water.

  Darcy sat on the edge of the fountain and pulled Elizabeth onto his lap. He wrapped his large overcoat about her and she nestled into his chest. “I love gazing at the stars,” Darcy remarked softly. “The immensity of the universe with the vastness of space and uncountable heavenly bodies is so outside our control and power. What is man compared to such awesome magnificence? It is a humbling experience to note one’s insignificance.”

  “‘Miserable mortals who, like leaves, at one moment flame with life and at another moment weakly perish,’” Lizzy quoted.*

  Darcy smiled, “‘There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.’”**

  They continued to play the quote game, but Darcy proved the victor. Lizzy laughed, conceding defeat, and then arose to walk among the flowers. Darcy sat in complete contentment watching his lovely wife in the moonlight.

  “When Jane and I were younger, we would sometimes steal out at night

  when all were asleep. We would lie on a blanket under the stars and talk about our dreams.”

  “What do young girls dream of?”

  She giggled. “Handsome princes on gallant white steeds charging in to whisk us off to crystal castles with spires reaching to the heavens.”

  “Alas, my steed is black and Pemberley has no spires. Pity that your dreams have been dashed.”

  “Well, at least the handsome part is true so I shall endeavor to overcome my acute disappointment.” She had picked several fragrant b
uds, tucking them in her hair and at her bosom. Lastly she snipped a strand of jasmine, weaving it into a garland. She approached her husband, still sitting on the fountain’s edge, and crowned his head with the aromatic adornment. “Now you are a prince,” she teased. “Two out of four is tolerable.”

  Darcy clasped her legs to pull her onto his lap again, but she danced lightly away, tinkling laugh ringing. “If you desire to whisk me away, my prince, you must catch me first!” She gave a merry chase but his longer legs proved his asset, and he caught her at last.

  The devious gleam in her eyes should have warned him. He leaned down to kiss her but she moved in quickly and securely caught his lower lip with her teeth. She nibbled tenderly, running the tip of her tongue along his lip, sucking slightly. Her hands were not idle, firmly stroking up his inner thighs and over his hips, fingers barely brushing his most sensitive regions.

  Darcy had never experienced anything like it. How did she know to do this? From you, came the answer. She was intoxicating and he was instantly aroused. His befuddled mind relaxed his grip and she scurried away, dashing down the path toward the house, effervescent voice floating back to him, “Revenge is sweet, beloved!”

  He groaned in misery then laughed, remembering his satisfied gloating at lunch and in her dressing room. He followed slowly, needing the distance to restore his irregular heartbeat. When he reached the terrace, he could see her moving about in his study. He entered and she was standing placidly by his desk, an expression of contrition on her face, although with Lizzy, penitence was as equally suspect as naughtiness. She came to him, softly placing tiny hands on his chest, and in a little-girl voice asked, “Still love me?”

  “More than ever,” he answered, bestowing a kiss to her forehead, cheek, nose, chin, and finally her lips.

  She smiled brightly. “This is your study, is it not?” He nodded. “I wondered if it was, when I was here in September.” She flushed in embarrassment. “I did not read anything, but I saw papers with your handwriting and your seal. I could picture you sitting at that desk, working. It’s a beautiful room, William.”

  “Have a seat, Elizabeth. Since we are here, I have something to discuss with you.” She did as he asked as he retrieved the envelope given to him earlier by Mr. Taylor, and then he sat beside her, taking her hands. “I recognize that discussions of my wealth are uncomfortable to you, my love, and I appreciate that as it is further proof of your true reasons for marrying me.” He smiled at her.

  “Nonetheless, we cannot ignore the facts nor can I discount my responsibilities to you as my wife. When I was in London last, I had my solicitor draw up legal documents regarding my will and settlement for you. That is what is in this envelope. The exact details can be deliberated later. The gist is this: When I die, a settlement of thirty-thousand pounds will be yours, along with a yearly income of three-thousand pounds. Pemberley will forever be open to you as your home, as will Darcy House in London. Ownership of Pemberley will pass to our eldest son with further details regarding future children to be decided when the time comes.”

  Lizzy was stunned. Darcy smoothed her cheek and kissed her softly. “For the present, since I selfishly intend to live a very long time to love you, I have set aside a monthly allowance for your personal use. The intention is not to prohibit what you spend but to render easy access to funds as you need them without requiring you to solicit me or Mr. Keith. The bills will be kept in a locked box in that cabinet over there. If at any time you need or want something beyond what monies you have available, you must only ask. Do you understand so far?” She nodded, speechless.

  He continued, “Household funds are in a separate account. In time Mrs. Reynolds and I will teach you how it all operates. As I have assured you, dearest, I am making no demands. Pemberley is a very complicated estate and it will take you time to learn it all, if you even chose to do so. All you must understand now is that any decorating you wish to do or furniture you wish to purchase, that sort of thing, is not a personal but a household expense. The monies are limited; I am not the King after all!” he laughed. “However, you would have to be excessively extravagant to seriously jeopardize the estate.”

  “Lastly, you are aware that I have a decorator arriving next week, which should be Wednesday. On Monday I have arranged an appointment for you with a dressmaker in Lambton. Her name is Madame du Loire, and she has fashioned many of Georgiana’s gowns. Mrs. Reynolds suggested this course. I hope it meets with your approval, dearest?”

  “William, I truly do not know what to say. You are so conscientious and far too generous! You continually stagger me with your ability to contemplate my needs. Thank you!”

  “Elizabeth, you flatter me with your kind words. Business I comprehend easily. Women’s necessities are still much a mystery to me. We must educate each other. As always, Mrs. Reynolds and Georgiana, when she returns later this month, will be your principal resources. They know what is available in the region and what should be obtained from Town. Now, enough of that!” He stood up briskly and locked the envelope safely in his desk. “I am overcome with the urgent yearning to unwind with my wife in our sitting room. To hold her in my arms reminding her of my fervent love, devotion, ardor, and happiness. Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?”

  When Lizzy entered their sitting room, comfortable and resplendent in her nightgown and robe, Darcy was already reclining on the chaise lounge before the fire. He had an open book in his hand and momentarily did not hear her, so engrossed was he. She smiled. He had finally given up reading the book he had labored over during their engagement and had succumbed to the reality that reading was out of the question for the time being. It was refreshing and heartwarming to see him content and able to relax.

  She settled herself between his legs, back tight against his chest. He entwined his legs with hers and hugged her close, one arm over her shoulders with a hand resting between her breasts. He kissed the top of her head and told her he loved her. Lizzy could honestly say she had never been happier in her entire life. He began reading aloud and his melodic voice soothed her.

  Darcy became aware that his wife had fallen asleep when he asked her a question and she remained silent. “Elizabeth?” he whispered, but there was no response. It was not precisely the ending to the evening he had envisioned, yet oddly the fulfillment of having his wife’s warm body in his arms was intensely gratifying in its own way. He held her for a long time, until the fire had died to embers, listening to her breathe and feeling her vitality. Carefully as not to wake her, he carried her to their bed. He stretched out beside her, marveling how even in her sleep she came to him, nestling close.

  *Homer, The Iliad

  **Homer, The Odyssey

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  An Anniversary

  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 nightgown. 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 led 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 accidentally pushing you into the doorway yesterday, but now that I think of it, it was your entire fault anyway, so I shall not.”

  “How do you reason it was 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 feeb
le 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. Elizabeth, for being so delicate, had incredibly strong hands.

  As expected, her innocent conduct eventually took on a decidedly sensual flavor. She straddled him at his waist, sitting on his bottom, directing her attentions first to his shoulders, massaging as hard as she could. He tried to caress her knees but she slapped him and told him to behave, earning a chuckle. For thirty or so minutes, she diligently applied herself to kneading and manipulating every muscle. Darcy slipped into a daze of relaxing euphoria, unaware, for a time, of Elizabeth’s presence. That was until she scooted off his bottom to his legs and began squeezing his rump and thighs. Her strokes gradually turned from firm and deep to soft and caressing. She traveled over and under his hips, down outer and up inner thighs. His breathing changed from deep and relaxed to sharp and fitful.

  He rumbled her name deep in his throat, begging, and she ceased, lying fully onto his back and kissing the nape of his neck as she ran her fingers through his hair, before meeting seeking lips as she rolled off. Darcy gathered her into his arms, passionately kissing her with a ravenous hunger. He pulled away and met her eyes, those beautiful eyes that had intrigued and captivated him almost from the first moment he saw her in Meryton.

  “What you do to me, love. So beautiful… exciting… precious. My wife, my only love, my soul.” His endearments and declarations were incessant as he kissed her eyes, lips, nose, cheeks, chin, and neck. They made love slowly initially, quickening as their mutual passion grew.