“Perhaps you should not enter the water, William. Your wound is not fully healed.”
Darcy looked down at the twin scars on his side, still reddened and puckered, but healing well despite him removing the stitches without the physician’s consent and constantly scratching at it. Lizzy was forever slapping his hands and scolding him. The laceration on his chest had mended quickly, a residual fine pale line the only evidence. His bruises had faded rapidly, although his left foot still pained him if he stepped the wrong way. She joked that they were a pair of invalids. He joked that they therefore must each nurse the other with tender loving.
“It is well sealed over and no longer pains me, well, not too terribly that is. Do not fret. Come.” Taking her hand, he led her as they cautiously waded over the rocks to the middle of the pond. At its deepest a mere four-and-a-half feet, the temperate water was blissful. Crouching down, the water rising to mid-chest, he held Lizzy in his arms as they floated leisurely about.
“Oh, this is delightful,” she sighed, lying backwards to float on top of the water. Darcy firmly clasped her waist and thrilled at the sight of her. “I have not done anything like this since I was a small girl. The lake near Longbourn was a favorite haunt on hot summer days. Sadly, when a girl reaches a certain age, it is considered unseemly to play in the water.”
“Yet you did it anyway, am I correct in assuming, Mrs. Darcy?”
She opened her eyes and grinned. “Oh, how well you know me, husband. Of course I did! My mother nearly fainted each time and insisted my father punish me, which he did not do.” She laughed. “You might remember this and reweigh any wishes for daughters resembling me, beloved. Two or more of us may prove beyond your endurance.”
“Obviously Mrs. Reynolds has been remiss in her duty to regale you with stories of my exploits as a youth, or have not my scars convinced you? My temperament may be serious, but I was reckless. Combine our attributes and, regardless of sex, I imagine we are both doomed to early gray hairs.”
She sat up in his lap, winding her wet arms around his shoulders. “I heard past-tense words in that sentence. In light of recent events, I deem not much has changed in respect to your recklessness.” She kissed him.
Grinning, he declared, “I have been properly chastised for my mischief, may I remind you, and owing to how well you administer spankings, perhaps our children will not be so intolerable after all.”
“Ha! Children, I am to understand, are not supposed to enjoy the spanking.”
“Maybe you need to practice the discipline further. I will be happy to oblige, for the sake of your increased excellence and our children’s upbringing, of course.” He nuzzled her neck, delivering tiny bites.
“Incorrigible! Perhaps we should pray for girls after all.”
“Oh yes, because you, Mrs. Darcy, are all that is sweetness and light!”
Lizzy laughed gaily, hugging her husband close and resting her head on his shoulder as he gently glided about the pond. They bounced along in silent contentment, Lizzy actually beginning to fall into a doze, while Darcy held her and softly kissed any available skin.
The afternoon continued in much the same manner. They bathed until fingers and toes were wrinkled like summer prunes, drying in the filtered sun as they strolled about the glade. Lizzy snipped flowers while Darcy educated her regarding the unique Derbyshire vegetation. Frequent they retired to the blankets for snacks and sips of wine while Darcy read to her. Mainly they talked about anything and nothing, deliriously content to be completely alone for probably the last extended length of time, considering the hectic weeks to come. As the sun sank far below the tops of the towering trees, plunging the grotto into shadow, they made love again. They nestled and lazily kissed until the sun was nearly spent, the dell dark and chilly when they finally rose and dressed.
Lizzy was hesitant to vacate the grotto. No matter how often they revisited this place, and they frequently did over the years, this interlude would be special. She halted at the edge of the trail for a last look around, moving only when Darcy lightly touched her elbow. “Come away, beloved, it is late. We will return in June and have many months to return here.” He kissed her temple and she sighed, finally turning.
Acknowledgments
THERE ARE LITERALLY HUNDREDS OF people I could thank for making this adventure a reality. Naturally Miss Austen for creating these characters, Deborah Moggach for her fabulous screenplay adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, and Joe Wright for directing the film so brilliantly.
Personally I thank my own Mr. Darcy, who for more than twenty years has shown me what true love is and has further made me a believer by supporting me in this endeavor, no matter how late dinner was placed on the table. And massive hugs to my two fantastic kids for being so patient when Mom was lost at the laptop!
I thank the plethora of readers from my website (www.darcysaga.net) who have endured, inspired, and encouraged me every step of the way. You have made me believe in myself, and I absolutely do not have the words to convey the depth of my appreciation. I love you all! I also want to thank Deb Werksman and everyone at Sourcebooks for believing in me and this story. Last and most important, I must give all praise, glory, and thanks to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He is my ultimate Rock and the Creator of all good things.
Thank you for taking this journey with me. The Darcys thank you as well!
About the Author
SHARON LATHAN IS A NATIVE Californian currently residing amid the orchards, corn, cotton, and cows in the sunny San Joaquin Valley. She divides her time between being a homemaker nurturing her own Mr. Darcy and two teenage children and working as a registered nurse in a neonatal ICU. Throw in the cat, dog, and a ton of fish to complete the picture. When not at the hospital or attending to the often dreary tasks of homemaking, she is generally found reposing in her comfy recliner with her faithful laptop.
A SNEAK PEEK AT
Loving Mr. Darcy
AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE
Hertfordshire
ELIZABETH DARCY STOOD NEXT to Georgiana on the massive portico before the main doors to Pemberley. They were dressed in their traveling clothes, the grandest and plushest of the Darcy carriages parked in the drive, waiting patiently for the Master of Pemberley who was currently speaking with his steward, Mr. Keith.
The warmth of May in Derbyshire had set in full force, days radiant with bright sunshine until late into the evening. The vast gardens of Pemberley were responding as Mr. Clark and his staff diligently engineered with literally every color of the rainbow bursting in nearly eye piercing splendor. Trees of every species indigenous to England, and many that were not enhanced the landscape with diverse shades of green and leaves in a multitude of shapes and sizes. Lizzy had regained her strength and mobility by traversing the miles of pathways weaving through the varied gardens. The by-product of her wanderings was a familiarity and deepening love of this place that was now her home.
Lizzy dreamily mused at how tremendously she had changed in the nearly five-and-a-half months since she ascended these same stone steps as a nervous bride. Outwardly her entire appearance was drastically altered with gowns and jewels and furs beyond her vaguest imaginings six months ago now normal. Her hair, even in its traveling coif, was superior to anything she had ever fashioned previously. She was largely unaware of it, but there was a serenity and grace to her bearing that had not been present before. She would forever laugh spontaneously and carry a ready quip on her lips, but her character was notably more refined and softened. The minute gestures and vocal intonations associated with the social etiquette of the upper classes had permeated her being unconsciously.
Inwardly she recognized a happiness and contentment that anchored her soul. Although there remained an enormous amount of Pemberley’s management and the Darcy business affairs that she did not understand, her role as Mistress of Pemberley was a comfortable and accepted one. Her place in the household and the community was firm, and her confidence was secure. This massive house, which had frankly fri
ghtened her to death initially, was now home. She no longer walked through the endless halls with feelings of paralyzing awe and unworthiness. In five short months she had grown to love the manor and its surrounds with a devotion transcending anything she had ever felt for Longbourn. Already she missed the library and bedchamber and sitting room and…well, all of it! The approximately six to seven weeks of their planned absence stretched before her as an empty sadness despite her excitement to see her family, and it was necessary to exert every ounce of self will to not rush inside for one last glance.
At that moment her husband strode out the door with the purposeful and powerful gait uniquely his own, mien intense and serious as he imparted a few last minute instructions to his steward. He paused as Mr. Keith commented about something. Lizzy smiled in admiration at the picture he presented. Commanding all to attention as he stood with shoulders back, masculine six-foot-three-inch frame erect and impeccably dressed, elegant and regal, with sonorant voice authoritative. Pure potent love and incredible pride burst through her as a wave. All that she had become in these past months was due to him. His love for her, his devotion and respect, his loyalty and faith in her capabilities, his steadfastness and latitude, and most importantly his intuitive comprehension of her temperament, perceptions, and requirements collectively encouraged her to blossom into the woman she now was.
He nodded in finality, shook the steward’s hand, and turned to his sister and wife. Instantly his face lit with a beaming smile, and although no less noble or masterful, his countenance softened considerably.
“My dears, are you ready?”
“Waiting for you brother.”
“Come then,” and he offered an arm to each of his two favorite women in the entire world. He assisted Georgiana into the coach first, made sure she settled comfortably, and then turned to Lizzy inquiring with deep concern, “Are you well, beloved?”
“I am fine, William. Do not fuss so.” She patted his cheek and took his offered hand.
Leaning close and wholly indifferent to the hovering servants, he kissed her forehead. “I will fuss whether you wish it so or not, Mrs. Darcy. Therefore you may as well own to any discomfort you have immediately to save me perpetually questioning!”
He assisted her into the carriage, following behind, as she laughed. The truth was that she had been increasingly indisposed for the past five days. She had attempted to hide her infirmity from Darcy, but this was a fruitless endeavor. His eagle-eyed scrutiny and intimacy with all matters regarding his wife had penetrated any guile she ventured. The physician had examined her yesterday and confirmed that which they had presumed: she was definitely with child. Despite previously harboring little doubt, the Darcys greeted the validation with jubilance. If her queasiness and extreme fatigue prevented her from literally jumping for joy, her heart was leaping. Darcy was nearly beside himself with euphoria, and only Lizzy pleading with him to enlighten their families first kept him from informing all of Derbyshire.
The doctor had given her a clean bill of health, assuring them both that her symptoms, albeit difficult, were completely standard. He guessed that the worst of her nausea and lethargy would pass in a month or so, at about which time quickening would occur. He had spoken to them both at length and bluntly as to what to expect. As for the trip itself, he saw no reason to postpone or cancel, merely urging to take it slowly. In light of the occasional mild headaches Lizzy suffered as a lingering effect of her trauma coupled now with pregnancy, it was wise and essential to not overextend.
With this in mind Darcy had plotted the normally one day trip to Netherfield as a two-day journey, departure not until mid-morning when Lizzy usually felt better. So here they now were at nearly eleven o’clock and finally wheeling south on the long Pemberley drive. The two carriages with their luggage, Samuel, Marguerite, and Mrs. Annesley had left earlier. A courier had been dispatched to London the week prior to prepare Darcy House and another to Hertfordshire for the Bingleys and Bennets. Lizzy sat close to Darcy, gazing out the open window until Pemberley, with Mr. Keith and Mrs. Reynolds waving their adieus, completely disappeared from view. With a heavy sigh, she nestled under his out-stretched arm and he hugged her tightly. “I miss it already,” she said.
“I always feel that way too,” Georgiana replied, “until I get to London. There is so much to entertain! The symphony, the plays, the park across from our townhouse, the little paddle boats on the lake…”
“The shopping,” Darcy interrupted with a grin.
Georgiana blushed, “Yes, the shopping as well, although it is you, dear brother, who insist I obtain new gowns and the like. In the end, you buy more for me than I acquire for myself!”
Lizzy laughed. “Somehow that does not surprise me.”
Darcy was unfazed, “I shall not apologize in providing for and spoiling the women in my life.”
“Elizabeth, you will so enjoy the shopping. We can purchase baby items! Oh, how wonderful it will be.” Georgiana glowed and clapped her hands in enthusiasm.
The older Darcys smiled indulgently, Lizzy personally too weary and queasy to visualize tromping through the clogged, odiferous streets of London as anything less than horrible. In truth, she was taking this entire excursion one step at a time. Currently she only focused on seeing her family and proudly squiring her handsome husband about. As shameful as the emotion was she experienced fresh surges of vanity at how wonderful he was in every conceivable way as far as she was concerned, and how amazing that he belonged to her. She glanced up at his face as he exchanged pleasant conversation with his sister, his lush voice vibrating through her body where she pressed against his side. Six months ago, she thought her love for him stronger and deeper than her heart could contain, yet it was as a single star in the array of the endless heavens compared to now.
He met her eyes, smiling sweetly as he stroked her cheek then kissed her briefly. He repositioned his body slightly sideways so she could recline onto his chest, long legs stretched completely across the spacious carriage interior. She dozed for short spells throughout the journey, snacking sporadically from the generous provisions provided by Mrs. Langton, while Darcy read.
The trip was uneventful, arriving safely at the inn Darcy had secured near Northampton. Lizzy had a moderate headache from the unrelenting sun and jostling which she had successfully hid from her husband for the past hour. However, when she exited the carriage, Darcy aiding her, a flash of light reflecting off a glass window of the inn pierced her brain as a bolt. She cried in pain, reflexively released Darcy’s hand to press palms to throbbing temples, and crumbled to her knees.
“Elizabeth!” She was in his arms within the span of a heartbeat, Darcy barking orders sending servants dashing to obey. It was all rather a daze to Elizabeth, head hammering and stomach churning. In record time, she found herself lying on a plush bed with a cold compress over her face, a frantic Darcy at her shivering side.
“Here, my love, drink this. I do not believe you have consumed enough fluids today. An error of mine that I shall not repeat. Marguerite,” he turned to Lizzy’s maid standing nearby, “please retrieve Mrs. Darcy’s blue gown and robe.” He assisted Lizzy with the glass, unbuttoning her dress as she drank.
“Darling, I will be fine in a moment,” she began shakily, but he halted her by pushing the half-empty glass against her lips.
“Hush now, Elizabeth. You need to rest. Drink, that is an order, and then you must sleep. I will have dinner brought to us later.”
“No, William! I will rest here as you wish, but you go and dine with Georgie. Spend the evening with her as we planned. Marguerite will stay with me.” He started to protest but she interrupted, “It is merely a headache from the light. My own stupidity for not shutting the shades. It will fade quickly; they always do. You need to eat a complete meal.”
He argued further, but Marguerite assured him she would send for him if needed. As Lizzy was already slipping into a doze, he reluctantly relented. By the time he returned several hours later
, she was awake, had eaten a hearty dinner, and the headache had dissipated. She sat on the balcony gazing at the stars when he joined her. She nestled onto his lap, cuddling contentedly, and they talked quietly. She appeared rested and in her usual lively humor, but he remained anxious for her health, internally chastising himself for not lowering the shades.
He kissed the top of her head where it nestled so perfectly under his chin, his arms tightening around her body. “As delightful as it is to stargaze with you I insist we retire. You need your rest for the remainder of our journey, and I will not risk the health of you or our child.”
“You worry unnecessarily, my love. The headache has vanished, I slept so am well rested, ate an excellent dinner, and am currently blissfully embraced by my handsome husband. What more could a woman possibly want?” She smiled up at his anxious face, wiggled closer, nestled her face into his neck, and bestowed a light kiss. “Actually,” she said, imparting another kiss, “I do have a marvelous idea.” She slid one hand under the hem of his shirt, nibbled on one earlobe, and slipped the tip of her tongue into his ear. “A final activity to fully restore my health.”
“Elizabeth,” he sighed, eyes shutting in pleasure, “we should wait until… settled at Netherfield…please…” Moans interrupted words as she firmly situated his hand on a breast while her lips traveled deliciously along his jaw. “Your headache could return, beloved, listen to me…”
Lizzy stopped his voice by seizing his lower lip and sucking gently. Darcy moaned again, unconsciously rocking a burgeoning arousal into her bottom and rubbing her breast.
“You talk too much, Fitzwilliam.”
“No one has ever accused me of that!”
She smiled and began seductively stroking and kissing him. He earnestly struggled to dissuade her, but to no avail. Lizzy’s obstinacy was manifest in a myriad of ways, and one was when she desired him. Of course, Darcy never strived to avoid romantic activities with his wife, so he was not well experienced in how to do so!
Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One Page 37