Mr Darcy's Cottage of Earthly Delights

by Beth Massey

  Earlier in the day, Mr Bingley had asked her to dance two sets. She had agreed but had also danced with several other men curious about who the mysterious regal beauty was. Lord Colton was asked to introduce his sister-in-law to among others both Lord Byron and Beau Brummel, who then were free to request a set. Her popularity had been as it usually was in Hertfordshire… men clamoured to be at her side for a set, but they rarely had any constancy in their interest. Obviously, everyone believed beauty was transitory. Still, she had delighted in what she thought was a bit of jealousy on Mr Bingley’s part.

  In the carriage on the way to the Gardiner’s, Mr Bingley had formally asked permission to court her during the Little Season. It had been expected. They would both be in London at least part of the time. He would be available to spend time with her at the theatre, concerts, routs and perhaps even a few balls.

  Both would also travel to Hertfordshire for the party to honour the newlyweds. The lease on Netherfield was through October; and Mr Bingley was opening the estate to house Mr and Mrs Darcy, Lord and Lady Colton, and any others in need. Jane was often made aware of his obligations to travel to Somerset in early November to oversee the start of production for his bathtubs. Despite this interruption, he assured her several times that he would be returning to London within a fortnight. If she agreed, he would speak to her father tomorrow.

  When she had not immediately accepted, Mr Bingley had not faltered. Once again, he had begun to describe his longer-term goals. The pride in his eyes as he had told of his inquiries to the man who had bought his father’s mill, had excited her. Mr Greenway had no sons, and was looking for a younger and more affable man to be his partner… someone who could inspire trust in their customers and workers. Jane had observed that his amiability had seemed to become tempered by purpose in the past month. Charles’ enthusiasm was infectious as she had listened to his determination to buy into Mr Bingley senior’s old business.

  If successful, he would be required to be part of the day-to-day operations at the mill. He had gestured enthusiastically as he related how that would require him to return to Yorkshire. His hopes to combine his twin aspirations were outlined with a look somewhere between determination and desire on his countenance. “With the move north, I will find a small estate—the size of Longbourn—near Scarborough where I will settle down. The property shall not be my livelihood, but hopefully will bring in enough income to provide a lovely place to raise children. Every day I have worked with your uncle has persuaded me I should use my charm, connections, and fine education to go into business. My wife and children will want for nothing. My hope is to provide a beautiful home… the best schools… and a prominent place in the society of Scarborough. I desire to be the epitome of a successful, respected, wealthy man for this new age that is dawning. It is my belief you would be the best partner for me in every way. Your ideas for our success would be valued.”

  As she listened to his plans, for the first time in their acquaintance her heart began to beat a little rapidly; and she felt warmth spread through her body. She wondered whether it was the thought of all the activity in which he would be involved that was causing her to become excited. He seemed so much more purposeful and sure of himself than she remembered him in Hertfordshire. His foray into trade seemed so very appealing all of a sudden. While he was thanking her for the suggestion to use Kitty’s drawing of Mr Darcy’s tub in an advertisement, a wayward thought of the two of them sitting naked in one of his devices popped into her mind. Her breathing had become a bit ragged with the image, and her nostrils flared as she took in his spicy scent. How odd that she had never noticed how enticing he smelled before. Lizzy’s words had unleashed these thoughts. For hours while the wedding festivities had captured her attention, she had been keeping them at bay, but now they came flooding back. Her sister had described kissing… tongues exploring… hands caressing… and more…

  Now hours later as she lay in the dark trying to lose herself in sleep, Jane’s finger moved to lightly trace her sore lips as she remembered his words, her impulsive action, and with a sigh—his reaction.

  “Miss Bennet are you feeling well? You seem a little flushed.”

  She had begun shaking uncontrollably, but still her words did not admit to the unknown feelings coursing through her body. “No, I am fine, Mr. Bingley.”

  “Miss Bennet, you do not seem well. You seem to be trembling. Whatever, has happened to you? Perhaps it was the richness of the food… or did you drink a bit too much champagne?”

  “Perhaps. Mr Bingley, I promise an answer to your request to court me tomorrow. I am tired and do not seem to have the faculties to adequately consider you request.”

  “Tomorrow will be soon enough. You do seem fatigued. I am worried that you are developing a fever. You are most uncharacteristically agitated, and I fear my request might have taken you by surprise.” He had looked at her with what, in retrospect, must have been concern; but in her state, she had taken his expression to be some form of invitation. At the time, she remembered an initial feeling of confusion about what she was being bidden. Next, he put the back of his bare hand to her forehead, and his touch had sent her sense far, far away… as other senses took control of her body.

  Her eyes had focused on his lips, and she had noticed they seemed wet as though he had just licked them. Yes, that was what he was expecting her to do… he wanted her to kiss him. She moved to his side, and with a little pushing motion she pinned him against the corner of the carriage. Once she had him secure, she leaned in and pressed her body against his and found his lips with her mouth. Her foray had, at first, been tentative. But for some reason her action made her feel powerful; and she was inspired to increase the pressure.

  He had been a bit unyielding, and she believed he might have tried to resist her assault in the beginning. However, when she introduced her tongue to the kiss, his mouth had opened to allow her entrance. As their tongues battled, a clenching and tingling between her legs began; and this feeling drove her on. Before she knew what she was doing, she was lying atop him, had pulled her gown up to her waist and had positioned his left leg between both of hers, so that the spot with the awakened sensations could rub against him. At that point in her offensive, he had grabbed her bottom and repositioned her over something hard and bulging between his legs. Together they established a rhythm of rubbing through their clothes that soon had her quaking and tingling wildly in some kind of catharsis. At the moment of her most intense pleasure, she had screamed, “Oh, Mr Bingley.”

  He had continued to move her chemise-clad body over the protruding prominence in his trousers, until he had come to the same place she had moments before. He did not scream anything, but instead made a sort of grunting noise in concert with the several jerks the appendage in his pants had made. Suddenly she felt a wetness oozing through the fabric.

  They lay there for several minutes as their lungs and hearts returned to normal. Finally, he had said, “I think you should call me Charles.”

  Her only reaction to his words was to giggle. Later, the mortification for her actions would come, but at that moment she was experiencing a giddy glowing sort of after-effect.

  For his part, he astounded her by engaging in some equally capricious behaviour. With his face displaying exultation, he began to sing… in French. Jane knew the tune from her childhood as Are You Sleeping but did not understand his words. Nonetheless, his glee so inspired her, that she decided to join him. Soon she was vocalizing the English lyrics along with him, and his jubilant solo became a somewhat disparate but ultimately harmonizing duet.

  Once they arrived at the Gardiner’s, she asked if he wanted to come in and stay for dinner. His mirth evaporated with her offer, and his face displayed a bit of alarm. He had cautiously replied that he was not presentable and suggested she try to avoid facing her family until she had been able to right her own appearance. As they said goodbye with a chaste kiss, he held her gaze and told her with intense sincerity, “I am looking forw
ard to your answer on the morrow.”

  She had taken his advice and moved immediately to her room upstairs. Luckily they had beaten the others to the Gardiner’s home. She spent the moments before they arrived changing her clothes, rearranging her hair and putting cold compresses on her lips.

  Now hours later, she was feeling mortification; but even more she was desirous to feel those sensations once more. Her imagination was running wild with thoughts of how she could force Charles to please her again. Somehow, it seemed appropriate that he should make amends for the almost yearlong pain his abandonment had caused. A sort of wicked smile graced her face. If he was her husband, perhaps she could convince him to rub her back or massage her feet as Lizzy always had. He would be an excellent replacement. Today, she had been witness to a taste of other things he could do that her sister could not.

  As she pondered her future, the image of them together in the tub came again. A fantasy invaded her musings. He was bathing her. This commanding, successful, respected, wealthy man of trade would be at her beck and call… how delightful. She saw him washing her hair and her feet. Her vision, now had her leaning back against his chest, and he was washing her breasts. She dipped her hand into her nightgown to caress her nipples, as she imagined the sensation of his hands doing the task. They grew hard and erect with the grazing of her fingers—as though preparing for something. Once again, she was amazed by the things she had learned about her body today. She had touched her bosom before… why now did the nipples change? The muscles inside her core seemed to be trying to capture something as they tightened and loosened. She could not help but imagine him washing between her legs, and an intense tingling was unleashed with that vision.

  Jane decided she had some exploring to do. She arose from her bed and walked to the door and locked it.

  Across the hall, Mr and Mrs Bennet heard the door lock and exchanged a quizzical glance. They had been lying in bed discussing the events of the day, when the sound of their eldest’s action interrupted them.

  Mrs Bennet’s eyes reflected the concern that had been growing for Jane, as she spoke, “Tom, I hardly know her anymore. Her behaviour has become quite erratic since we arrived in London. Today, I saw her looking at Lizzy with what appeared to be extreme envy, and then later she seemed to be wool gathering. You have convinced me that it is good she is becoming less complaisant, but it pains me to see her unhappy. She has never been as resilient as Lizzy.”

  Tom Bennet was lying on his side looking down at his wife. His face expressed hope that his daughter’s months of heartache might be ending. “Mr Bingley asked for permission to court her. She told me he is coming to talk to both of us tomorrow, and she hinted that she was inclined to say yes. The bruising on her lips makes me think he might have pressed his case with an extremely passionate kiss.”

  Fanny Bennet shook her head at his revelation. “To think that a year ago, encouraging Mr Bingley to court Jane was my major occupation. Now my concern is more that I want to be certain the decision will bring her happiness. Our circumstances have changed so dramatically in the past month. I now have a son-in-law who is worth ten thousand a year, and another…

  Mr Bennet interrupted his wife with, “Oh no, my dear he is worth much more; and Lord Colton has a similar income… to top that, he will one day be a peer. I do not think you need fear being thrown out in the hedgerows. Between the two of them they have four estates… three in Derbyshire and one in Scotland, and both have a house in town and Lord Colton has a shooting box.”

  Mrs Bennet chuckled at the consequence of both her new sons. Oddly enough, her recent good fortune had done away with her competitiveness with her neighbours. The marriage of Charlotte Lucas now seemed pathetic to her, and her heart was filled with remorse for saying she was not handsome. “I believe we will soon have a parson among our sons. He will only have a parsonage, but he seems a perfect match for our Mary. She told me she dreams of helping him write his sermons, and he seems amenable.” The musical laughter—he had fallen in love with so many years ago and that she had passed on to Elizabeth—was heard as she said, “And to think I had nothing to do with paring them. Luckily, he is not like that obsequious Mr Collins. Oh, Mr Bennet, in my nonsensical fear, I tried to force poor Lizzy to marry that odious man.”

  “Fanny, I think she forgave you when you ordered him to be gone from Longbourn. She was very proud of you, and could not wait to tell me of your admonishment.”

  The couple returned to discussing the wedding and the breakfast that followed. Fanny saw the sincerity in her husband’s eyes as he complimented her on the delightful festivities she and Lady Sarah had created for their girls. “I was particularly impressed with the floral arrangements. All these years I have known of your love of flowers, but only today did I realize just how knowledgeable and resourceful you are in arranging them.”

  Fanny looked up at Tom with teasing satisfaction as she replied, “Mr Darcy seemed similarly impressed with my skill.”

  “Ah, now you have truly dazzled me, Mrs Bennet. When first I met the more serious of our new sons, some remarks he made led me to believe his judgement of beauty to be impaired… now I realize my first impression was prejudiced.” His face could hardly remain serious as he said, “Yes, I think Mr Darcy improves on acquaintance. He now seems to have exquisite taste."

  Mrs Bennet laughed at her husband’s humour. However, when next she spoke, her countenance hid her mirth. “It is my impression, Lord Colton believes he has found a diamond in the rough… and I believe he is polishing her as we speak.”

  Thomas Bennet’s laughter shook the room. He leaned over and kissed his wife soundly. How had he forgotten the bawdy wit he had loved when first married? He pulled her to nest against his body and whispered into her ear. “Fanny what happened to us? We exchanged similar amorous looks at our wedding breakfast as did our daughters with their beloveds, and I doubt their wedding nights will be any more enjoyable than ours was.”

  Fanny Bennet’s face was filled with the pain of the last seven years as she spoke, “We were unable to produce an heir, and the disappointment averted our eyes from the prize that had been our love. My feelings of failure fed your lack of confidence. I lost myself in trying to marry off our daughters, and you lost yourself in your books.”

  “Fanny, you are very wise. You at least were trying to solve our daughters’ dilemma. I was just trying to escape.”

  Thomas saw the moistness in his wife’s eyes as she spoke. “Yes, but my actions were often very silly, and I kept you away to spare myself further proof of my deficiency.”

  He wiped her tears and his voice trembled with emotion, “We could try again.”

  “We could, but I would prefer to do so for the pleasure and not feel the need to produce a son.”

  Tom looked startled at her words, “Oh my, is a child still possible? I had not thought of that outcome. My proposal was about returning to sharing a room and allowing me to enjoy you often.”

  “What about me? Do you think you are still up to giving me my share of pleasure?”

  Just then they heard Jane singing Are You Sleeping across the hall. At the sound, both began to laugh, as neither had sleeping on their mind.

  Mr Bennet wiped the mirth from his face and replaced it with pretend petulance as he spoke to his wife’s query about his prowess. “How about you give me a try and reserve your judgement until after I am finished?” He did not wait for her answer, but let the touch of his hand and the caress of his lips do the speaking.

  24

  July 1813

  MORNING, NOON AND NIGHTTIME TOO

  Will Darcy awoke and felt the warmth of his wife’s body curled against his. The sensation brought a smile to his face. It was one of the many, little, ordinary things to which he had grown accustomed. While sleeping, she radiated an amazing amount of heat. This attribute had been an unexpected boon last winter, and despite the current heat wave, he still found her sultry presence delightful.

  Most mornings
the silken softness of her bottom was the first thing his morning arousal encountered. Today, he had moved away just slightly to avoid poking her awake. She had been complaining of both fatigue and sleeping poorly.

  This morning ritual had been his most persistent fantasy for many years. The struggle to win Elizabeth had been fraught with mistakes, but the proof of his success was snug and toasty in the curve of his body. Now that his dream was a reality, he was convinced loneliness was a thing of the past. Her promise in Grosvenor Square—the morning they said their vows—was as often his first conscious thought upon waking: ‘I will stay right here by your side.’ Oh, the joy those words brought to him! Even better than making love to her… and that was sublime… was the knowledge that they had achieved a love of truth and trust for all seasons.

  Her slumber this morning seemed deep, and he wanted to allow her to indulge in some much needed rest. He had his suspicions about the cause of her exhaustion, but so far she had not been forthcoming. Surely, between her mother and Lydia she knew the symptoms. The slightly irrational behaviour of Lady Sarah’s warning last year had been in evidence the last few days. They had history with this subject, so he would have to find a delicate way to broach the topic. Despite his trepidation, a smug look of satisfaction crossed his face as he gazed at her slightly larger breasts.

  His prophecy of love being in the air had begun to be fulfilled two days after they said their vows. Roberts had handed him a message on Saturday morning. It had arrived on Friday evening, but his valet had thought it prudent to wait until the following morning to give it to his master. The note had been from Bingley. The first thing he noticed was the absence of skipped words and nary a blot to be found. Despite it having been written in haste, it conveyed very definite ideas. Mr Gardiner had taught him well to write a proper letter… although he did notice most of the words were no more than two syllables.