“We could redecorate an entire chamber as an Indian harem or some such. Perhaps one of the bedchambers, then we could charge for travelers to stay in Pemberley's exotic Far East Chamber of Passion!”
Darcy laughed, tossing his stockings toward the pile of shoes and wiggling toes as he stretched long legs. “Precisely the reputation I have been seeking. Excellent suggestion, Mistress Darcy.”
Lizzy crawled on all fours over to the chaise, gaudy silk trailing over her back onto the floor in her wake. Spreading his legs, she rose to her knees and began untying the knots of his cravat. “Do you know what sounds delightful, my love?”
“I think I can hazard a guess,” he murmured from the top of her head.
Lizzy smiled up at him. “A walk in the moonlight in our favorite garden. Remove your coats and I shall return in a moment.” After a quick kiss she left, but did return within a few minutes with her hair loose and petticoat, stockings, and shoes discarded.
Barefooted and holding hands, they ducked behind a hanging tapestry several feet down the hall from their sitting room door, behind which was a servant's staircase. This hidden door and staircase was one of many throughout the manor that allowed the servants to ascend and descend unobtrusively and speedily from the kitchen and other basement chambers without disturbing the residents. Darcy had revealed this little fact of life causing his wife surprise a month or so after her arrival to Pemberley, when she had innocently commented on how she never saw the servants in the hallways, and how the footmen, especially, seemed to disappear as if by magic. To her amazed curiosity, this apparently was a typical design of large manors, and so common a fact that Darcy was stunned she had no knowledge of it.
This particular stairway led to the basement, naturally, but also to a small side door on the ground level that opened onto a private garden on the east side of the house. Darcy frequently utilized this route not only for the evening moonlit strolls, which for years have been a habitual relaxing pre-bedtime activity, but also as a way to sneak into or out of his study and thus the lower level rooms without encountering visitors.
One particular visitor whom Darcy had discovered an increased necessity to use the hidden stair and corridors around was Caroline Bingley. On five different occasions over the years, Miss Bingley had joined her brother, at Darcy's invitation, for a stay at Pemberley. Darcy's prior feelings toward Caroline were mixed. He had not disliked her in any great way, found her rather amusing at times in her arrogance and attempts to display her lacking intelligence, dull wits, and poor humor, and did honestly admire and appreciate her frivolous but inclusive knowledge of gossip and feminine trivialities, which did liven conversation. Of course, it had been readily apparent to him, despite his often retarded awareness of the machinations of the opposite sex, that Caroline had “set her cap” for him, as they say. Sadly for poor Miss Bingley, she was one woman he never remotely entertained the idea of courting. As time passed and her maneuvering became frantic, Darcy began to avoid her in any way possible. Naturally, this was problematical considering his close relationship with Bingley, and Darcy had attained a point of desperation in his annoyance. It was nearly brought to an eruption during his sojourn at Netherfield when he met Elizabeth.
Darcy had agreed to accompany Bingley to Hertfordshire, partially as a friend offering his business acumen, Bingley even then considering purchasing a country estate, but also as a way to avoid Caroline and her ilk in Town for a spell. He had no great desire for or interest in Hertfordshire personally, agreeing to the excursion only to please his friend. Imagine his anger when Caroline insinuated herself into the invitation, a fact he had not discovered until the very day they departed! Of course, there was nothing he could do at that point. Needless to say, between his vexation with her attitude and improperly blatant advances, growing affection and turmoil over Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and concern over his dearest friend falling in love again, the Netherfield trip was an agony on numerous levels. Darcy had never been so emotionally confused upon departing a place in his entire life.
The subsequent winter and early spring encounters with Caroline were distressing and blessedly few. Darcy was an emotional ruin and Caroline's mannerisms were no longer even mildly amusing. In a sad way, it was fortunate that Bingley's own state was a distraught one over the Jane affair, as the two men saw each other rarely in the months succeeding the autumn in Hertfordshire. Otherwise, Darcy was positive he would have exploded in a rage that likely would have severed their relationship permanently. By the time the Bingleys visited Pemberley for the summer, Darcy, grief ridden but at least restored to a state of semi-equilibrium, found that as long as he evaded Caroline as much as feasible without being shamelessly rude he managed well enough. Thus, the hidden stairway was utilized so extensively that the servants often forgot to even acknowledge their Master as he passed them by.
Caroline knew abstractedly of the existence of servant's passageways, but aside from having no intimate knowledge of Pemberley despite her bold assertions to the contrary, it also never would have occurred to her that a resident would employ them. Therefore, she could not fathom how it was that she consistently missed Mr. Darcy day after day considering her carefully arranged location at the second floor landing.
Upon Caroline's first ever stay at Pemberley, she requested the guest chamber located directly across from the top floor staircase. Mrs. Reynolds had prepared a chamber at the far end of the wing, a much larger room with a stunning view of the Peaks at sunrise and the River Derwent. The housekeeper was baffled when Miss Bingley instead requested the smaller room which faced the inner courtyard. She was not a fool, however, and it soon became obvious why Miss Bingley desired the room as she “inadvertently” accosted Mr. Darcy each morning when he descended for breakfast, and numerous other times throughout the day. Darcy was a bit sluggish on the uptake, and it actually required three visits before he figured out her manipulation and began regularly servicing the hidden passageway.
Now, Caroline was yet again residing in the first floor chamber. It was comfortable and spacious, as all Pemberley chambers were, simply not as grand as many of the others and allotted nothing in the way of a landscaped view. Caroline actually rather liked the room, having grown accustomed to it, but the irritation of being so ensconced, without the benefit of engaging Mr. Darcy in private albeit brief conversation and flirtation, was galling. Her aggravation prevented sleep so she quietly snuck down the hall to an east-facing chamber, thankfully empty, to sit on the wide window seat and gaze at the moonlight glimmering on the rippling waters of the Cascade Falls and family gardens.
With a sigh she rested her head against the cool stone, the window open with a gentle breeze blowing, and wondered for the hundredth time why she had asked Charles for an invitation. Yes, the season in London was over and anyone of any importance had escaped the oppressive heat of the city for their country abodes; nonetheless, there were always a few who remained for various reasons. Also, she had received a number of solicitations by her friends, including the sister of Sir Wallace Dandridge of Essex, a gentleman of moderate wealth and prestige who had shown a steady interest in Caroline for the past three seasons.
So, why was she here? Merely to torture herself? The truth is that Caroline could not say. For the past nearly two months she had frequently socialized with the Darcys, either in their home or the Bingley townhouse or at other venues, always avidly drawn to observing their interactions. Her stunned shock upon realizing the true nature of the love between the two had evolved into an intense curiosity vacillating between jealousy and covetousness. At times she hated Elizabeth for what she had with Mr. Darcy, yearning for it herself and persisting in a ludicrous sense of believing it stolen from her. Then she would smile internally at the happiness she witnessed on their countenances, especially the perpetually somber Mr. Darcy, with a gladness that bespoke of affection toward him that she had not realized she possessed. The concept of her being the fount of such joy in a man was a novel and appealing idea.
As these musings rambled through her brain, Caroline's attention was caught by movement on the grounds below. Illumination in the garden was cast by the nearly full moon and infinitude of stars, bathing the scene in relative brightness. Therefore, Caroline could clearly distinguish Mr. and Mrs. Darcy as the hand-holding strollers. In shock she noted that Darcy wore only his linen shirt and breeches, casual attire she had never seen him in, and that Elizabeth apparently wore no undergarments, as the outline of her legs was visible in the moonlight through her thin dress. A faint murmur reached her ears through the cracked window, but they were far enough below for the words to have no clarity.
Darcy and Lizzy wove leisurely via the flowering bushes to the bronze statue of Hercules fighting the Nemean Lion. Lizzy stepped upon the dais, placing her at eye level with Darcy. He paused, watching as she balanced on the narrow edge and with careful concentration walked heel-to-toe around the circumference of the platform, returning to her softly applauding spouse with a graceful curtsey.
“Well done yet again, my dear. Excellent balance.”
“I must keep in practice,” she said with a laugh, “then perhaps I shall be able to accomplish the task when grossly distended with your child, Mr. Darcy.” She kissed his nose. “Show me the stars out tonight, William.”
He turned, Lizzy encircling his waist with chin resting on a shoulder as he pointed to the various constellations visible in the July skies. She loosened his shirt to enable her to massage the warm skin of his chest as he spoke. They stood in serene contemplation of the heavens, both supremely content to be home as the breeze lifted their hair and carried pleasant fragrances from the masses of blooms, clean water and air, and fresh tilled earth.
Lizzy sighed happily. “It is so wonderful to be home. The city has its charms, but nothing that compares to the raw beauty of natural landscapes and the extensive gardens of Pemberley. I do so love it here and wish we would never have to leave.”
“Not even to see the ocean?”
“What do you mean?
He turned, embracing her waist. “I was thinking that later, perhaps in September when it will yet be easy for you to travel, that we could vacation on the coast. You and I only. You have never seen the sea, beloved, and I am thrilled to be the one to aid your discovery. In addition, I would have you all to myself. Does this sound appealing?”
Lizzy was smiling broadly and bouncing on her toes in excitement. “William, it sounds wonderful! Oh, to be utterly alone with you for a time! How blissful that would be.” She met his mouth with a deep sigh. They kissed for a while, slowly and teasingly, Darcy nibbling and suckling her lips while caressing over her back and hips.
Abruptly Lizzy pulled away, grasped his hand, and positioned it squarely over their child. They beamed as the baby flipped about, gazing with love and joy into eyes mere inches apart.
“I shall never weary of feeling him move, never!” Darcy declared with awe, voice husky. “I order you, dearest, to find me if I am anywhere nearby whenever he expresses the urge to exercise.” He knelt and nuzzled his face onto her belly, kissing firmly, then rising and returning to the delight of her mouth.
He kissed her deeply, probingly and absorbingly, desire rising rapidly as it always did when they touched. Lizzy untucked the remainder of his shirt, hands roving all over his back and under the waistband of his breeches as she pressed her body tightly against his. Darcy's strong hands were everywhere, caressing and squeezing. He encompassed a plump breast while lips traveled down her neck.
Lizzy arched and moaned softly, “Fitzwilliam, I want you so. Please, take me to our room.”
Darcy smoothed the hair from her face, cupping her cheeks as he kissed with sensual intoxication. “I love you, my Elizabeth,” he murmured, “so beautiful you are in the moonlight.” In tandem he rubbed his palms over her neck to shoulders, onto both breasts for gentle fondling, downward with tender strokes as he whispered words of adoration mingled with seductive kisses. “Tonight, my beloved wife, I shall love you in our bed until you are screaming in uncontrollable ecstasy. Tomorrow we shall steal away to the copse amongst the willows and there we shall make love with the moonlight and stars shimmering over your skin. All day I shall envision you there, under my body, entwined and joined with me. Will you too imagine us there, precious love, so that your ardor will equal mine?”
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly with a nod, meeting his crystal eyes. Darcy ran one hand under her skirt to her bottom, the other tangled in her flowing hair as he teased her with the tip of his tongue softly flickering over her ear and elsewhere, returning to her mouth for further plundering.
“My love. My eternal love. How I need you,” he groaned as he circled her body, powerful arms lifting her off her feet and onto the hard planes of his chest. Darcy buried his face into the satin flesh of her neck, inhaling vigorously. “Yes, I must take you to our room immediately before I ravish you right here! God, how you arouse me Elizabeth!” He stood her onto her feet, yet holding tightly in shaking arms with forehead resting on hers as he fought for control.
Suddenly he chuckled. “If any of the servants see me on the way upstairs, I shall never have the nerve to face them.”
Lizzy laughed too, reaching down to stroke the indication of his passion, eliciting a throaty groan. “Do you honestly believe your prowess and our frequent bedroom activities are not already a topic amongst the staff?”
Darcy looked at her in surprise. “Whatever do you mean?” He started to add something ludicrous about the fine staff of Pemberley never gossiping about their Master, but her laughter halted him.
“Truly, William, at times I think you more naïve than I! Servants are simple folk and do not possess the vaunted and rigid moral proprieties of the elite. Trust me, I can recall more than a few overheard conversations between the maids at Longbourn, not to mention the field workers. Samuel and Marguerite are the only two who see the vivid evidence of our love, and I trust them implicitly, but the others are not imbeciles and can do elementary deductions.”
Darcy was actually blushing furiously, peering into the darkened windows as if he expected to see an audience of eyes staring back. Lizzy was laughing harder by the second as she took his hand and led him toward the door.
Caroline watched them move slowly toward the door, pausing several times for fresh kisses and extremely intimate caresses, finally disappearing from view. Her breath was shallow, cheeks flushed, and body trembling with strange sensations. She had distinctly seen it all and did not need to hear their words to know that she had witnessed a scene of indescribable intimacy and raging passion. Caroline Bingley, like most well-bred young ladies, was largely ignorant of the finer details of marital relations. The occasionally borderline naughty twittering among her friends, maidens all, was vague and steeped in misinformation anyway. Caroline did not have a mother or close female relative with which to discuss such things, her sister Louisa far too prudish to even consider, aside from the fact that she had never remotely been curious. Caroline was mercenary and narcissistic by nature, passion for anything other than clothing or jewels not of interest to her. Marriage was a necessity to fulfill those desires and if intimacy entered into the proposition, so be it. The idea of marital relations being pleasurable had never crossed her mind or entered her awareness.
However, there was absolutely no denying that what she had beheld in the garden were two people deeply in love and also obtaining tremendous pleasure from each other's touch. It was also astoundingly clear, and the blush to her face increased at the remembrance, that there was far more to come. Yes, she had seen it all and despite the lingering mystery of the love act, Caroline was not a total idiot and could form deductions of her own!
Quite unexpectedly, the vision of Sir Wallace Dandridge entered her mind. He was a fairly handsome man in his mid-thirties, of medium height with blonde hair and a lovely smile. Caroline had been so focused on Mr. Darcy for the past several years that she had given little thought to any other. Sir Da
ndridge had barely entered her consciousness, despite her friendship with his youngest sister. This season, Mr. Darcy no longer a possibility, Caroline had seriously cast about for the logical replacement, successfully working her magic on a number of eligible bachelors. Of all the hopefuls, Sir Dandridge was the most persistent, if not as wealthy as she may prefer.
Caroline smiled and closed her eyes as the image of his kind face appeared. Dreamily she conjured the fantasy of him kissing her as Mr. Darcy had kissed Elizabeth. With tingles of a strange variety fluttering through her, Caroline eventually returned to her room where dreams of a unique nature would invade.
Meanwhile, the Darcys ascended the flights of narrow stairs, halting a dozen times for breathless kisses and cuddles. Only once were they required to quickly duck behind a corner to avoid a maid heading toward the basement. Darcy covered Lizzy's mouth to prevent escaping giggles, but utilized the interruption to press into her soft body. Once safely behind the latched door of their chambers, Darcy grabbed his wife and pulled her roughly against his body for a passionate kiss. His fingers nimbly attacked the buttons to her gown as they stepped toward the bedchamber. Clothes fell randomly as they were discarded until, naked, they tumbled onto their bed in a tangle of limbs.
Laughing, they panted and kissed and groped and squeezed all while attempting to navigate to the middle of the enormous bed. Lying on their sides as they faced each other to caress and kiss, the tactile enhancement continuing for some time. Few words were uttered, even Darcy caught up in a state of rapturous delirium inducing voiceless hunger. They loved slowly then with increased intensity, Darcy mesmerized by his wife. She was so beautifully sensuous and he experienced a fresh rush of amazement that she was his and, most profoundly, that she loved him as she did. In all his years of hoping and dreaming for a marriage based on love, and as self-awareness of his sexual desires matured, he refused to allow himself to imagine that he would actually find someone who would fulfill both cravings. Astoundingly, Elizabeth was such a woman. The fact that she was his for the entirety of his life was frequently a phenomenon that quite literally staggered him.
Loving Mr. Darcy Page 29