As exemplary as was the masculine whole, equally aesthetic were the individual parts. She still adored his feet: strong and broad with long, straight toes and tiny dark hairs sprouting. His sturdy, elegant hands absolutely drove her insane. The hollow of his throat where a potent heartbeat could always be seen, his luscious neck, and his eyes. Oh God, his eyes! Lizzy continued to marvel at her previous blind stupidity for not at least noticing his eyes: a blue as vivid as the Derbyshire sky, blazing with intelligence and passion yet so sensitive and evocative. How could she not have recognized his beautiful soul as disclosed through his eyes?
Overcome with a flood of raging ardor and an intense need to express her devotion, she rose abruptly, Darcy starting at her sudden move. In seconds she was before him, nudging his legs off the ottoman so she could kneel in between. Darcy smiled, no need to ask her intent as it was clearly written on her face, and divested his hands of their encumbering items so he could twine fingers through her hair. She gazed into his eyes, those amazing eyes now clouding with immediate desire, while running her hands over his calves and feet.
“I love you, Fitzwilliam. Forgive my pique and for not laughing at your jokes. Allow me to offer contrition for my misdeeds.” Smiling impishly, she rose on her knees and leaned in to kiss the throbbing pulse in the hollow of his neck. Darcy sighed happily, closing his eyes as she proceeded to deliver kisses down his chest and abdomen to his powerful thighs.
Lizzy proceeded to gently fondle him in all the ways which drove his passions wildly over the edge. She thrilled at the feminine power rushing through her as his excitement manifested. Now that Lizzy had read through the medical book and better understood the physiologic machinations of male arousal, it astonished her that the sudden rush of blood to his groin did not induce delirium from lack of oxygen to the brain! Of course, she chuckled as he groaned and dropped his head onto the chair; as evidenced by how dazed and befuddled he became, it apparently did nearly induce delirium.
Utilizing the firm and tender movements which she knew aroused him most profoundly, Lizzy adored her husband. The power and manliness of him, all hers to enjoy, titillated her to unbearable levels. Shoving her own excitement to the side for the present, she focused on his pleasure. Darcy was in a haze of passion, overwhelmed with love and adoration for his wife. “Elizabeth,” he whispered roughly, “I love you, God how I love you! Please, please do not stop my love.”
Lizzy did not stop. No initial planned intent of how she ultimately wished to please her husband, she now knew she wanted to concentrate on his satisfaction rather than her own. She knew him well: every gasp, shudder, muscle clench, writhe, wiggle, moan, or murmured word spoke clear volumes as to how he was feeling and where the level of his ardor was. She knew precisely how to bring him the greatest joy, and she did so.
After blissfully bringing him to completion, she nestled onto his lap, nuzzling his sweaty neck. Darcy was yet shivering and gasping. “My love, my husband. How I adore you. Do you have any idea how perfect you are?” She kissed over his face, caressing inside his shirt, Darcy unable to speak. Reaching his lips, she suckled the lower, murmuring, “Is my poor attitude forgiven, beloved?”
Darcy laughed with a harsh bark. “Lord, Lizzy! After what you have done for me I would likely forgive you anything. However, there is nothing to repent for.” He cupped her cheek, smiling with utter contentment and happiness. “Will you stay with me here all day? I know you fret about the Festival but truly all is well, and I find I desperately need you all to myself. I cannot bear another day of sharing you!”
Lizzy encircled his waist, hugging fiercely. “You have read my thoughts, love, as you always do. And you are correct, as annoying as it is to admit!” She giggled and pinched a nipple, Darcy chuckling. “The Festival is beyond my control. I am confident all has been planned well and the guests will have a marvelous time.”
Darcy hugged her tighter. “Elizabeth, I am so proud of you. Have I told you this?” He gently clasped her chin and peered into her bright eyes. “I am completely serious. You have stunned me in your enthusiasm and competence in this endeavor.” She blushed and attempted to lower her gaze but he held firm. “You must understand how amazing you are. I mean no offense, but I must confess that I had my doubts, as you have no experience in running a household, let alone organizing a major fête. I never doubted your eventual capabilities or intelligence, but frankly, I did not expect you to grasp it all so quickly. Elizabeth, I married you because I love you. I fell in love with you because of your passion, humor, quick wit, and intelligence, not to mention your luscious body.” He grinned and she tickled him briefly.
He continued, “In all seriousness though, I knew you would evolve into a wonderful Mistress of Pemberley. I told you so many times when you questioned yourself, remember?” She nodded, staring into his intense eyes. “However, in truth, I honestly thought it would take a couple of years. When you declared, upon your first day at Pemberley, that you wished to reinstate the Summer Festival, I confess I laughed. Again, not because I dispute your energy or heart, but because I figured it too much to undertake in so short a time. I wanted you to ease into being Mistress, afraid that the duties might overwhelm you and that you may become unhappy as my wife.”
“Never!” she interrupted firmly, kissing him with fierce urgency.
“Well, see,” he finally stammered breathlessly, “we both harbored residual anxieties in those early days. Elizabeth, despite my incredible love for you and faith in your potential, you have astonished me at every turn. What you have accomplished, my love, is truly unparalleled. Pregnant, ill, and wounded, so young, inexperienced, and naïve, none of those handicaps have hindered you. I want you to comprehend how extraordinary you are as a person, as my wife, and as Mistress of Pemberley, and to believe how bursting my pride in you. I do love you immeasurably, Mrs. Darcy.”
Sending word via a maid, the Darcys stayed together in their chambers all day. Resuming a pattern they had grown accustomed to during the timeless winter months, they lounged about in their robes talking, snuggling, reading to each other, making love as the yearning arose, playing games, and whatever else seemed pleasurable at the given moment.
Lizzy brought out the interlocking puzzle, which had remained unmolested since her birthday. Clearing a table, they began to work on the odd recreation, experiencing a blissful oneness as they linked the pieces together. Sitting close, they managed to form almost the entire circumference of the picture before the frequent brushing of their bodies ignited passion. It began with an innocent caress to her knee, Lizzy rapidly distracted by his scent and firm muscles, especially since she had not slaked her amorous appetite that morning. Having no doubt whatsoever that he would readily rise to the task, Lizzy's caresses became quite focused and were not the least bit innocent. Darcy glanced at her with a raised brow and crooked grin, Lizzy clarifying her demands by the simple expedience of grasping the front of his robe and pulling him onto the floor.
She was unmistaken in her assumption. He did rise to the task, quite speedily as a matter of fact. Clothes were discarded in haste with frantic fondling and kissing ensuing. Lizzy flipped him onto his back with incredible force, straddling and loving him leisurely. Darcy, as always when she blissfully assumed control of their lovemaking, was as enraptured by her actions as he was by the joy exhibited in every inch of her flushed flesh. She was wholly perfect. The swell of their child between them, the baby occasionally felt when their bodies were squeezed, her bounteous breasts swaying as she moved, were all glorious reminders of their abounding love. Naturally, the end result of their lovemaking was satisfying and wondrous.
They transferred to the comfort of their enormous bed for a long, satiated interlude of cuddling and communication transpired in the aftermath of their loving. Bared bodies entwined as they lazily caressed and spoke of anything and everything, neither ever tiring of the simple pleasure found in a mere touch or sound of the other's voice. They read for a spell. The baby chose to become quit
e active, allotting Darcy the opportunity to speak to him and kiss the burgeoning bulge.
A late luncheon was sent on a tray and taken in bed between giggles and kisses. As they had discovered long ago, food could be deliciously utilized as an aphrodisiac. Honey, chunks of apple, thick custard, and wine were all used to enhance and arouse. The sheets were ruined and their flesh a sticky mess, but neither cared. Driven mad with desire, he loved his wife again, her body pressed under his. Lingering tastes of honey and fruit mingled with their unique flavors as they kissed, starved for the breath of the other.
The need to connect on every plane of their bodies kept them harshly glued together, Darcy only rising slightly on his elbows to avoid completely crushing her. Darcy incessantly murmured words of love into her ear between tender kisses and nibbles. Lizzy clutched him greedily, limbs wrapped tenaciously about his body, not at all feeling crushed.
They slept for a time, necessary for them both to regain their strength. Darcy could not readily recall the last lovemaking session they had shared of such intensity. He was utterly depleted, blissfully so. Lizzy woke long before he did, gazing at his relaxed face with a nearly overpowering sensation of adulation. They had needed this day to purely devote to the other, to cherish their union for the special one that it was. No one had disturbed them, as surely they would have if there were any serious problems. Lizzy realized that for two months now she had been so consumed with the obligations inherent as Mrs. Darcy that, although she had always placed her husband first, her mind was often distracted. With a sudden rush blinding in its acuteness, she wanted this evening to be over and all their guests to depart so she could rededicate every waking moment to him.
So earnest was her emotion that tears sprang to her eyes and she involuntarily squeezed, causing him to sluggishly rouse. “Elizabeth?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. “Are you alright?”
She nodded. “I am wonderful. I love you, William, so very, very much!”
He smiled and drew her close. “I love you too, my Lizzy. Forever.” He yawned hugely, lifting to glance at the clock then sighing heavily. “I suppose we should rise. Bathing is essential,” he said as he laughed, capturing a tress of her hair gummed with honey.
“Will you join me?” she asked. “I do not yet wish to part from you.”
“I will always happily bathe with you, my love, as long as we both fit, that is.” He chuckled and rubbed her belly. “However, do not expect more than actual washing. I honestly do believe I have attained my daily quota of arousals. Can a man be totally drained? I shall have to investigate the subject.”
Lizzy laughed. “I have difficulty imagining your virility ever exhausted, beloved, but considering my unearthly satisfaction from this afternoon, I shall have no grand expectations.”
In the end, they were both pleasantly surprised. Once again, Darcy's response to the touch of his wife's flesh, especially in a soapy tub, was automatic, maintaining his record of never being able to touch her without becoming profoundly aroused.
The invitees began arriving around five that evening. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy greeted each one under a flower-laden pergola erected beyond the terrace on the southern side of the Manor. Designated as the reception area, the wide arbor opened onto the vast grasses surrounding the trout lake with shooting fountains. In keeping with the informal, fun atmosphere, Darcy and Lizzy wore understated outfits carefully chosen to not intimidate yet maintain their status as Master and Mistress. Marguerite dressed Elizabeth's hair in a simple chignon and Samuel insisted on trimming Darcy's hair so he did not look so disreputable.
Between the two, they remembered nearly every person's name. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Taylor, as the senior staff members, stood nearby to assist with the greetings, aiding Darcy and Lizzy with those folks they did not know. The enormous quantity of people employed in some capacity or another overwhelmed even Darcy's extreme mental faculty.
The children were immediately directed to the play zones, games of all sorts in progress. Dr. Darcy, dressed in a truly marvelous khalat of vivid fuchsia silk with the edges detailed in silver, had voluntarily stationed himself at the children's area. One glance at the tall, lanky man in the bright flowing dress with beaming smile, and the children squealed in delight. He joined right in, leading groups in competitions of blind man's bluff and Mother, may I.
“He is the biggest child among them,” Darcy whispered to his wife.
Lizzy giggled, turning to the next person in line. It was a tall man, vaguely familiar, but Lizzy could not immediately place him until she noted the adolescent at his side. “Caleb!” she declared, turning then to the handsome man beside his son. “Phillips, forgive me. I did not recognize you without your livery and wig. Welcome to the Festival. This must be your wife?”
Phillips bowed regally, his lack of his dress uniform not inhibiting his proper manners or stateliness. “Mrs. Darcy, allow me to introduce my wife, Doris Phillips.”
Phillips was not the first footman Lizzy had difficulty recognizing, although now that she expected it, she knew to mentally erase the powdered wig to form a picture. It was interesting to view the familiar staff in their casual garb, laughing and conversing with ease. Samuel and Marguerite appeared arm in arm, proper and reticent although eventually they did relax enough for Samuel to overcome his numbing bashfulness to dance with his fiancée.
For over an hour the wagons and carriages rambled along the drive. The harsh August sun was low on the horizon, yet still delivering scorching beams of heat. Children, of course, seem impervious to the heat so embraced the entertainment with all the enthusiasm of youth. The adults were not as resilient, retreating to the relative cool offered by the shady tents located near the water, fans fluttering crazily. Nonetheless, they ate and drank, communing with friends, laughing and flirting. Steady streams of heaping platters of food were forthcoming from the kitchens to replenish the emptied ones. Jugs of lemonade and cold tea were continually refilled.
Reverend and Mrs. Bertram arrived with the orphans. Clustered in hand-holding groups as they walked down the drive, the children stared at the massive house in wide-eyed awe. The enthusiastic welcome of Mrs. Darcy, their cheerful patroness who always displayed affection and brought lovely treats, eased their nervousness. Within minutes, they too were scampering with George Darcy and the other children, playing games and winning prizes just like all the fortunate ones with families.
Perceptive to the fact that the tenants and employees would likely better enjoy themselves if the Master and Mistress were not uncomfortably close, Lizzy had set up a shady secluded area on the terrace for the inhabitants of Pemberley. Aside from Dr. Darcy, the others reclined in comfort. Darcy and Lizzy joined them, taking their seats with sighs of relief. Lizzy poured lemonade for herself and her husband while Darcy motioned to a waiting maid to serve dinner.
“I never realized there were so many people working at Pemberley,” Georgiana said in awe, observing the mingling crowds on the grass. “When we visited the tenant cottages before Christmas, Elizabeth, it did not seem like so many.”
Darcy smiled. “There are many more besides the tenants, Georgie.”
Anne suddenly laughed aloud, interrupting Darcy's explanation. “Dr. Darcy is playing hopscotch!” All eyes pivoted to the far field where George could easily be seen in his bright robe, hopping through the grid with a score of clapping children cheering him on.
Dr. Penaflor rose to stand next to Anne, laughing at the spectacle. “Children love George. Even when horribly ill he cheers them, finding ways to make them laugh. It seems a shame that he has none of his own, but then, perhaps God knew he was needed to love them all.” He turned and smiled at Anne, eyes meeting for a time before Anne blushed and lowered her gaze.
“Well, it is cute I suppose, but he should remember he is uncle to the Master of Pemberley,” Caroline said primly. “A whit of decorum is expected, after all.”
Raul laughed. “I am afraid, Miss Bingley, that Dr. Darcy does not take such things very serio
usly.”
“All those years amongst the savages, I suspect,” she continued. “What a shame.”
Charles looked at his sister with slight anger. “I rather think he would disagree in your assessment of them being savages, Caroline, or that it is a shame to have dwelt among them. Having never met an Indian, you should defer your hastily rendered judgment.”
“Besides,” Darcy spoke quietly, serenely cutting his meat and not looking at Caroline, “the Master of Pemberley takes no issue with his uncle's antics and is actually planning on joining the fun once dinner is finished. Will you accompany me, Mrs. Darcy, for the egg race?”
Lizzy smiled. “I would be honored, Mr. Darcy.”
“I am anticipating the dancing,” Kitty chimed in. “When will the orchestra play, Lizzy?”
“After dark.”
“You will dance, will you not Georgiana?” Kitty begged. “Please?”
Georgiana blushed, glancing to her brother. “I do not think so, Kitty. I have not had my coming out and have never danced formally.”
“Why, Georgie! You wound me,” Richard declared dramatically. “Miss Bennet has agreed to dance with me as has Cousin Anne, so you must as well. The night will not be complete!” Georgiana paled, mutely pleading with her brother.
Darcy chuckled. “Do not turn to me for saving, baby sister. Colonel Fitzwilliam is an equal guardian, thus if he wishes to dance with you, I have no say in the matter. You can refuse, of course, but he will be devastated. He may cry.”
“You see, Georgiana! I told you it would be all right. With all the available gentlemen about, we can dance every set, all night long!” Kitty clapped her hands in glee.
“I regret that I must exert my authority at this point, Miss Kitty,” Darcy said softly. “It would not be appropriate for Miss Darcy or you to dance with any beyond the immediate members of the household. Do not fear,” he said, smiling gently to ease the blow, “there are plenty of us to go around.”
Loving Mr. Darcy Page 37