Jane and Lizzy set out, buckets in hand and arms linked. Once they were beyond earshot and under the canopy of forest leaves, Lizzy sighed. “It is pleasant to walk with you, Jane. We have had so few opportunities to converse alone, although that shall change once you relocate here. Oh Jane, I am so thrilled you are moving close!”
“Yes, it will be wonderful. Derbyshire is so different than Hertfordshire. I do worry a bit about the winter. You know I abhor the cold.”
“I cannot argue that point. Hasberry Hall is well constructed, though, with fireplaces aptly located. Besides, the excessive cold lends credence to long lazy days languishing in bed with your husband.”
“Lizzy! Such things you say.” Jane was blushing and Lizzy laughed.
“Oh Jane, you so amuse me. Surely you must be past your acute embarrassment of intimate matters by now? Is not nestling with your love a delightful activity?” Jane was silent and Lizzy noted her thoughtful expression. “Jane? What is it?”
“When Mr. Darcy holds you Lizzy, is it very tight?” Jane glanced at her sister, slightly reddened and stammering yet truly curious. “I mean, do you… touch completely?”
“It varies night to night. William prefers to be entwined, as do I. However, lately, between the warmth of summer and my internal body heat rising with pregnancy, I am discovering it preferable to merely hold hands or lay close. Why do you ask?”
“Charles wishes to hold me snug, which is very sweet, I know, and I do adore the intimacy and thank you, Lizzy, for encouraging me in that regard. It's just… I cannot sleep well. I keep telling myself I will grow accustomed to another body so… attached… to mine, but…” She sighed loudly and Lizzy could see tears shining in her eyes. “Oh, Lizzy, I am a terrible wife!”
“Jane, dear Jane, you are not terrible! You have always needed your freedom, that is all. Remember when we shared a bed? You would get so irritated if I invaded your side. We would snuggle for warmth, but you were always the first to push me away. It is simply how you are! You can share a bed with your husband without necessarily being in the same space. I am sure Charles would understand this.”
Jane was shaking her head slowly. “No, Lizzy, I could never disappoint him so. Our relationship has blossomed since we began staying in the same room, as you said it would, and I truly do desire him there. He would be hurt if I altered it.”
“You are merely seeking a compromise, Jane. Why should you be miserable? You are not suggesting he retreat totally. I am afraid I simply do not see the problem. Candidly explain how you feel. Talk to him.”
They had reached the strawberries, Darcy's thicket having grown to a dense region of strawberry runners covering easily fifty feet of forest floor. Masses of ripe berries carpeted the ground in a speckled red and green pattern. Lizzy immediately knelt and began picking, but Jane stood still, staring into space.
“You sound just like Charles,” she said vaguely.
Lizzy looked up into her sister's faraway eyes. “What sounds just like Charles?”
Jane jolted slightly, focusing on Lizzy with a faint flush “Oh nothing. He is forever inquiring as to my feelings. He does not seem satisfied with my answers.” She shrugged. “Charles is ebullient and loquacious. I suppose he expects the same, yet it is not my nature to be effusive. It is frustrating, actually, to have him doubt my honesty.”
“Yet you did not reveal the truth of your feelings regarding Netherfield nor leaving Hertfordshire,” Lizzy said softly. Jane flushed and hung her head. Lizzy reached up and clasped her sister's hand, squeezing firmly. “Jane, I love you and appreciate your reticence; however, it can be hindering. You cannot deny your intrinsic nature, but you must learn to overcome to a degree. Charles deserves your whole heart and soul, as you do his.”
“Lizzy, what if he thinks ill of me? Do you not fear this with Mr. Darcy? That if you tell all he will be wounded or falter in his love for you?”
“Jane! That is ridiculous! Mr. Bingley adores you. The man mourned for months without you in his life. I rather doubt he will be dismayed to discover you have a fault or two! Do you not trust his devotion?”
“Of course I do!”
“Then stop being so silly. You cast negative aspersions on his character by not having faith in his love and commitment.”
Jane was pale, staring at Lizzy with dawning comprehension. “I never considered it that way,” she whispered. “Oh Lizzy, I am such a fool. Charles is the best of men and I love him unconditionally, faults and all. Assuredly he loves me the same.” Suddenly she giggled with an edge of hysteria, covering her mouth with one hand. “You see, I am a terrible wife!” She looked at Lizzy curiously, still giggling, “How do you know these pearls of wisdom, Lizzy?”
Lizzy laughed. “Wisdom bought with a tremendous price, Jane. You know what William and I suffered. I suppose the benefit to our tumultuous courtship was the trial-by-fire aspect of it all. We learned our lessons via grievous methods, but we did learn them.”
FOR THE FINAL HOUR of the afternoon the picnickers broke up into three groups.
Charles and Dr. Penaflor caught a dozen impressive trout and carp, a couple perch, and even one yellow eel. Jane and Anne strolled leisurely about the lake edge, neither desirous of a strenuous trudge through the wood, eventually meandering to the island. Charles greeted his wife with effusive delight, proudly displaying his catch. Dr. Penaflor was more restrained but sincere in his happiness to see Anne. Before long, the ladies were sharing the rocks with the men, learning the fine art of catching fish. Jane had some childhood experience, but for Anne the activity was novel. She sat next to Raul, not touching but close enough to feel the heat of him, their hands brushing on occasion as he demonstrated the nuances of casting and baiting. Conversation flowed, and Anne would forever recall that lazy, hot afternoon as a turning point in her relationship with Raul.
Dr. Darcy, in the meantime, set off on his own exploring. He tramped far afield, past memories of rambles through these woods swathing him in peace. He returned long after the others were all back and reclining on the blankets, his arms loaded with a profusion of wildflowers utilized to grandly decorate and crown each lady with color.
A walk along the forest trail leading to the cave was embarked upon by Darcy, Lizzy, Richard, Georgiana, Caroline, and Kitty. The cave explorers set out with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Lizzy and Kitty were exuberant. Darcy was mildly concerned, as all of the ladies wore soft-soled slippers and areas of the path were rough with gravel or slick with decaying leaves and mud. Georgiana and Caroline seemed to have joined the excursion by default. Colonel Fitzwilliam was jolly as usual, happily lending an arm to whoever asked.
Darcy kept near Lizzy, attempting to secure a hand or arm; however, she was forever slithering away from his side to investigate a plant or colorful stone along the way. The trail to the cave and small cavern was only some quarter mile in length, easy for Lizzy and the girls. Caroline, in contrast, considered walking over anything coarser than cobblestones or longer than the distance between one shop and the next an utterly foolhardy undertaking. Yet, she had tagged along and was not grousing, at least not too inordinately!
Derbyshire boasted a number of truly astounding caverns, renowned throughout England and visited and explored by peoples from far away. Noted primarily were the Creswell Crags and Poole's Cavern, among others, but none of the famous or amazing caves were located on Pemberley lands. This modest subterranean grotto present at the base of a craggy hill amid the forest featured no glittering stalactites or bizarre formations.
The wood opened abruptly into a vague clearing with slender trees and shrubs interspersed amongst fallen stones. The cave entrance was approximately eight feet high and a rough triangle shape, with uneven edges of grey rock framing the yawning mouth chiseled into the face of the enormous stone cliff. They paused, gazing with vastly differing impressions, as Darcy explained that the morning sun illuminated the stony façade, rendering the grey limestone nearly white and piercing the shadows inside the
cave. Now, in late afternoon, the gaping chasm was black as night.
Caroline immediately sat onto a flat rock at the edge of the clearing, rubbing her aching feet, and ignoring the cave. Georgiana paled at her first glance into the inky hole, instinctively stepping backwards and into the chest of her cousin Richard. He embraced her with a gentle pat and low chuckle. “Fear not, little mouse, you do not need to enter in.” Georgiana visibly sagged into his arms with relief. Lizzy and Kitty slowed their pace but approached with awe and curiosity.
Darcy grabbed Lizzy's elbow. “Wait, love. Let us investigate first. In the past the cave has been safe and vacant, but we must be certain.” He bent to light the Argand oil lamp he had brought along, Richard lighting his as well. The men disappeared into the black entrance, descending a short distance with the sporadic flash of their lamps visible as they moved about. It was only minutes until Darcy reappeared, beckoning to Lizzy and Kitty.
“Take my hand, Elizabeth, it is rocky here.” He assisted her down the initial incline, lifting her bodily twice over the fallen boulders and calcified formations clogging the immediate entryway. Some five feet into the cave the floor flattened into a relatively level expanse of solid rock with patches of sandy dirt. The cave was irregular, approximately sixty feet at the widest, the asymmetrical ceiling ten to twelve feet at the most, and several narrow cracks and side passages fractured the walls. Richard stood with both lamps in his hands, casting wavering illumination about the room.
Darcy turned to help Kitty while Lizzy investigated. The cave itself was fairly unremarkable. The rock was the same grey limestone with grains of sparkling granite, smooth in places but mostly naturally rough. Lizzy was surprised at how cool it was inside the cavern, the rock almost cold to touch and slightly moist in spots with blotches of phosphorescent moss.
“Minute cracks allow water to seep through,” Darcy spoke into her ear, startling her, “rendering the stone slick and very cold. It is too dim for vegetation to grow but certain mosses do not require light and, as you see, tend to glow.” His arm was around her waist, pulling her slightly into his chest while he traced the ribbons of faint green with a finger. He planted several soft kisses by her ear, murmuring, “Are you afraid at all?”
She looked at him in surprise, his eyes black in the shadows. “Afraid? Why would I be afraid?”
He chuckled. “No offense intended, my brave love, it is just that some, Georgiana for instance, become unhinged at the closed atmosphere and sensation of vast weight surrounding them. I have always rather appreciated the damp air and tranquility that pervades.”
“How far have you explored the passageways?”
“They do not extend any great distance and are all very narrow. Only one would allow my bulk to pass now. Even you, my svelte darling, would be hard pressed to wiggle through the others. I warned you it was not a particularly exciting example.” They walked around the perimeter, Kitty and Richard meandering as well. “Nonetheless, as a boy it was an adventurous place and an opportune location to cool off on a hot summer day. Ah, here is the widest passage. Take my hand, love.” He lifted the lamp and turned sideways, crouching a bit in order to squeeze through the constricted corridor. Lizzy managed easily, but thankfully the journey was only a few feet as Darcy was decidedly struggling.
The second chamber was some twenty feet in a vague triangle, the ceiling brushing the top of Darcy's head. At first glance, this room, as the previous, appeared unremarkable. Then Darcy led his wife to the far wall and shone his light upon a smoothly polished, flat expanse of rock.
“Look closely,” he said, pointing with one long finger. Etched into the wall were several names: Richard Fitzwilliam, Gerald Vernor, Albert Hughes, George Wickham, Anne de Bourgh, and Fitzwilliam Darcy. Lizzy touched the names, smiling. Darcy then indicated another group of carved names: James Darcy, George Darcy, Alex Darcy, and Estella Darcy. On and on it went about the room, names extending back for generations.
“It is an initiation of sorts,” he explained. “A Darcy tradition. Not just anyone could carve his or her name here. For instance, Georgiana's name is not listed. One had to camp here for the night. I was eleven the year we first stayed. Anne was visiting, although I have no doubt Lady Catherine would still attempt to thrash us all if she knew Anne had camped in a cave!” He laughed. “She was only ten and very brave. It is actually quite cozy. Here is the fire ring.” He knelt before a niche cut into the stone; charred pieces of old wood a reminder of past adventures. “There is a natural flue here so the room remains smoke free. We, like countless other children before, would bring blankets and food, tell scary stories until late into the night when sheer exhaustion overcame the fear or will to welcome the dawn.” He stood, laughing in memory. “Richard was always the best storyteller. I can be dramatic but I have little spontaneous imagination. Shocking, I know.”
Lizzy slipped her arms around his neck. “I love when you talk of your boyhood. I imagine our sons, and probably daughters as well, playing here and at the lake and all the other marvelous places our home has to offer. They are very fortunate, in a myriad of ways.”
Darcy bent to kiss her cool lips, warming her with his breath. “I am fortunate, as I will have a ready excuse to act the foolish child while showing them all these places.” Lizzy chuckled, nodding at the vision as Darcy claimed her mouth for a deep kiss. His hand stroked her belly, their child apparently unimpressed as he slept on.
“Are we finished with the exploration then, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy?” Richard's voice drifted from the entrance to the chamber, Kitty's giggle echoing eerily.
Lizzy was drifting into a hazy doze against her spouse's shoulder by the time they pulled up to Pemberley's main entrance. Servants quickly approached, Darcy tossing the reins to a groom as he jumped to the ground, pivoting to assist his wife down. The women retreated to their chambers to freshen up while the men headed toward the refreshment of the liquor cabinet. Darcy escorted his weary love to their chambers, laying her onto the bed and kneeling to remove her slippers and stockings. Lizzy yawned with a deep moan, eyes sliding closed instantly.
“Forgive me dearest,” she whispered, “I am not sure what has come over me.”
“You need your rest, Elizabeth. The baby demands it. Are you hungry?”
“A little, but more tired. Would you be a dear and bring me a glass of water?”
“Of course,” he said, already rising. He returned in seconds, aiding her to sit then caressing her hand as she drank. “Do you wish for me to stay with you?”
She shook her head, handing him the empty glass and laying back down. “It is not necessary, beloved. Go have fun with the boys. Kiss me first, though, and do not forget to wake me in time to prepare for dinner.” He complied, drawing the coverlet over her and waiting until she was asleep, which was within minutes.
He returned two hours later, the chamber cast in early evening shadows, and his wife yet soundly asleep. He watched her for a spell, never tiring of simply observing her. She slept with parted lips and one hand resting on her growing womb. Darcy bent and gently spread one broad hand over hers, feeling the lazy undulations of their child. With a smile of profound contentment, he sat carefully onto the edge of the bed, reaching to sweep several loose tresses away from her eyes. The baby continued to roll about leisurely under his warm palm as Darcy leaned to brush his lips over Lizzy's brow. She stirred slightly, sighed, but remained asleep. Bestowing faint kisses across her brow to temple then to her ear, he whispered her name.
Turning instinctively toward him, she sighed again. “Fitzwilliam,” she murmured softly as she sought his mouth. He happily reciprocated, kissing with gentle pressure initially, following her lead as she encompassed his neck and heightened the focus to his lips. Withdrawing after a blissful time, their eyes met, Lizzy now fully awake and well rested. “I love you, Mr. Darcy.”
“I adore you and love you and yearn for you, Mrs. Darcy.” He kissed her nose, pulling further away. “Marguerite is drawing a bath for you, bel
oved. Dinner is in an hour and a half. Do you feel well?”
“I am divine. Will you join me in my bath, William? I need someone to scrub my back.”
“I suppose I could be persuaded. I would not wish my lovely wife's back to remain unwashed.”
Fifteen minutes later he knocked upon her door, entering as she bid. Lizzy reclined in the water-filled tub, bubbles hiding some of her but not all. Darcy smiled instantly, eyes drinking in the sight. “Thank you, Marguerite, you may go. Mr. Darcy shall assist me further.”
Marguerite bobbed and departed, Darcy's gaze not once leaving his wife. As his robe hastily fell to the floor, he swiftly entered the warm water and nestled Lizzy against his chest. He kissed along her neck, hands roaming freely over her front side. “We must install a larger tub at Darcy House,” he declared huskily. “I so adore bathing with you, Elizabeth.”
Lizzy wiggled over his lap. “Yes, I can deduce as much!”
“Minx! You invited me, remember.”
“I merely wanted my back washed, husband.”
“Your back shall be cleansed by rubbing deliciously over my chest as we love to euphoric completion.”
He soaped his hands as he spoke, resonant voice sending shivers down her spine, then applied lubricated palms and fingers to her lush breasts. He caressed her, licking her ear and nibbling her neck all the while. Lizzy sighed happily and applied stimulating caresses of her own. Darcy groaned, vibrations saturating through her torso and giving her shivers.
Moaning and moving in rhythm, they stimulated leisurely. Warm water surrounded the intimate areas of their bodies, driving them mad and profoundly escalating the sensations. Darcy could barely think. He caressed incessantly, arousing her incredibly, but was hardly aware of his actions so agitated was his own excitement. Lizzy was curved into his torso, arms thrown backward to clutch his shoulders as she frenetically loved him.
They loved until utterly replete, collapsing further into the tub with water sloshing over the edge as they embraced tightly, holding on in lingering delight. Eventually Lizzy moved, turning about and soaping her own hands then proceeding to wash her husband, who reclined in absolute rapture. They talked, kissed, caressed, and laughed until the water was cooled. Darcy wrapped an enormous towel around her body, pulling her against him for a lusty kiss. In one graceful motion, he swept her into his arms and carried her to their bed.
Loving Mr. Darcy Page 35