Revelations

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  'I have those woollen shawls whenever I get chilly, I'm totally fine. Your staff makes great fires.'

  'I'm glad to hear that. I couldn't imagine you not being cold in those thin fabrics, with just a chemise and a petticoat beneath it all. I forgot about the woollen pantaloons, though they look cute on you. Anyway, I'm thinking of wearing real pantaloons and shoes more often, what would you think of that?'

  Elizabeth thought that was a great idea, but she was not planning to talk shoes right now. She unbuttoned Fitzwilliam's riding coat and draped it over a chair, then started on the tight coat beneath that. By now Fitzwilliam was all over her, and he removed her coat and put it on top of his own, no reason for all their chairs to smell of horse. As his inner coat disappeared to another chair, and the top buttons of his shirt were loosened, he started on Elizabeth's dress, but not before kissing her.

  Soon they were lying wrapped in their comfortable blankets, warm and snug, but stroking and feeling, Elizabeth's senses heightened by the heat smouldering inside her. She relished her beloved's scent, so familiar and so exciting, and explored his slim figure with the smooth skin and the little hairs in exactly the right places. His chest was pliant, but not as soft as her own, he clearly had more muscle, of course he rode nearly every day, and his spirited black horse kept his arms in constant action. His stomach was firmer, almost flat, her own had flattened since she started riding regularly, so she knew what caused his to be so hard, but he was rather ticklish so she stroked it less gently than his chest or he'd double up. His sides were too sensitive to really caress with her hands, she was trying to get him used to being touched there but it would take time.

  Of course Fitzwilliam was not just lying there, he was stroking her with quite some heat, he was fondling her breasts, relishing their softness, giving her the shivers and a feeling of excitement. Her own hands now explored his magnificent legs, solid with packed muscle, strong and very sensitive. His nice behind needed some attention, too, and then she turned to the part that wasn't ticklish at all, already eagerly awaiting any attention it might get, firm and soft at the same time.

  Of course they took their time exchanging intimacies, exploring each other's body with hands, mouth and tongue until they were burning with ardour.

  And when they were both a little out of breath and sweaty, their sated bodies snuggled against each other, they relished their intimacy a little longer.

  After their long ride in the cold the comfortable warmth of their little nest under the blankets and the release of their heat made them drowsy, and before they knew it they had dropped off, still entangled.

  A knock on the door woke Elizabeth enough to hear a loud whisper from Simon.

  'Wake up, you lovebirds, dinner's nearly ready, and if you don't come down in half an hour Miss Darcy threatens she will fetch the both of you herself.

  Without knocking first.'

  He really had no respect, this fellow, but this sounded as if he was literally repeating what Georgiana told him to, in which case Elizabeth had to forgive him. Again.

  'Better come in then Simon, and make us.'

  Did Fitzwilliam really say that? And here Elizabeth was blaming Simon for lacking respect, but it was her beloved who encouraged him, apparently.

  Would Simon do what his master said, despite his mistress being in the room with him, most likely totally undressed?

  'That is not fair, Mr Darcy, how can I obey you when doing so would anger the mistress?'

  'All right, all right, Simon, never mind my silly remarks, just give us a few moments to wash and dress decently. Though I do kind of miss being woken by having the blankets pulled off the bed in one tug, or by having a wet towel dumped on my face.'

  No wonder Simon treated his master as a comrade, Fitzwilliam used to want him to, and though her love now looked at her as if to assure her he really preferred to wake beside her, Elizabeth decided then and there to give him a prank now and then. Couldn't have him aching for horseplay just because he got married, now could she?

  Shivering, they washed themselves as they always did after riding, then dressed for dinner, Elizabeth indeed adding a knitted shawl to her outfit for she did feel the cold now. When they were fully dressed they admired each other, kissed once more, and within twenty minutes they arrived in the dining-room where Georgiana was already waiting.

  'Simon said you'd probably fallen asleep, did you really?'

  Fitzwilliam looked a bit caught, almost sheepish.

  'We did, we'd had a long ride in the snow, you know how sleepy being out in the cold can make you once you warm up again.'

  'Simon did suggest you warmed up really thoroughly before you fell asleep.

  I see. Oh well, it's not as if I cannot entertain myself for a few hours, and you both look very well, taking a nap before dinner must be very healthy.'

  Chapter 28

  Elizabeth was amazed how hungry she was after their afternoon's activities, and after dinner she no longer needed the shawl to keep warm. As they moved to the drawing-room for the evening, Fitzwilliam picked up a book from a cabinet where he had apparently left it for a moment just like this, and offered, 'I thought I might read to both of you tonight. I really liked this short story when I was still a boy and had all kinds of romantic ideas about love. After years of lonely adulthood the story soured for me and I forgot all about it. But yesterday I came across it in the library, and since I believe in love once more, I now want you both to hear me read it.'

  And before either of them could object or even comment, he started reading a story of hardship and love, beautifully written and heart-rending. Pierre's story might be entertaining and rather exciting, the romance in this tale had much more impact, never had Elizabeth heard her beloved read better than this, and when she managed to throw a glance towards her sister, she could see Georgiana enraptured by the story and her brother's incredible talent.

  She looked at him exactly as she looked at Mr Fielding, proof again that she didn't love her teacher in a romantic way, but merely admired him for stirring her feelings.

  Fitzwilliam must have been a very romantic youth indeed to have loved this story, but Elizabeth could also imagine that after waiting to experience love like this for nearly ten years the story would have palled for him. In a way he could be glad, in hindsight, to have had his heart broken at least once, suppose he had never been lovesick, he would not have understood what this beautiful story was all about. Did that account for the feeling with which he read it? It had to be, Elizabeth could feel tears rolling down her cheeks as he described Tom, the main character, leaving England after having been turned down by the woman he loved, boarding a ship bound to the Far East on impulse in his grief. How could this story ever end well? It was a short story and China was so incredibly far away.

  After Fitzwilliam related the suffering of the hero, trying to forget his loss scrubbing decks and doing other back-breaking chores to earn his keep, strangely enough he was not a gentleman but a commoner, the story switched viewpoints to Rose, the girl who had spurned him.

  Her thoughts and feelings didn't even sound weird described in a manly baritone, without changing his voice Fitzwilliam made her totally credible.

  Hearing what her unwanted suitor had done, she came to regret her decision and decided to leave her safe home and middle-class family behind, and sail after the man she had refused to even hear out when he proposed. Of course she could not take a job on a ship, but she sold all her valuables, and with the proceeds booked passage on a transport vessel to the nearest port where Tom's ship was supposed to make a short stop.

  Then unexpectedly, as they had nearly overtaken the trading ship, a big storm came out of nowhere, both ships went down, the boy and the girl the sole survivors, picked up from the boiling seas by a dubitable vessel flying a flag with a skull and crossbones. With a big smile, Fitzwilliam concluded the story.

  'To be continued, ladies. This was the very romantic start of a tale of two young people becoming pirates,
living adventure after adventure in foreign countries, fighting exciting battles at sea and of course loving one another to bits, though very chastely. I loved it. I wasn't completely honest about the story souring for me because I didn't find my own love. I just grew up, I guess.'

  Not giving the slightest sign of having been taken in by her older brother, Georgiana remarked breathlessly, 'That was the best reading and the best story I ever heard, Fitzwilliam. I can't wait until they reach Africa, I'm looking forward to hearing the lions roar, and the parrots' and the monkeys'

  screeching. You're better than the theatre, I mean it.'

  Elizabeth agreed, she could still feel Rose's fear as the cold water of the Atlantic Ocean tried to swallow her.

  'That was just so real, love. I did wonder how such a short story could end well. I'm also looking forward to their first battle, I wonder whether those pirates will see fit to teach poor Rose how to defend herself against their opponents, and her own shipmates. Though it sure was a well-written story for an adventure.'

  Pleased with their comments, Fitzwilliam remarked, 'This series was the writer's debut, later he became known for his poetry and historical novels.

  Though I must admit I enjoyed this story best, it's surprisingly accurate, though I wonder whether the writer's theory of pirates being very egalitarian towards women is altogether true. I'd have guessed a girl could never remain unravaged in a crew of forty hard-bitten seamen, but he writes differently, apparently with anecdotal proof from the colonies. You'll see.

  Still, the events, the cities, the sea creatures, life on board ship, they are all very realistic.'

  It would be great fun to spend their winter evenings sailing the seven seas with Tom and Rose, Pierre's book was almost finished, the artist having found a rich widow to marry and raise grandchildren with, sharing his lady's affections with any attractive lady or gentleman to pass by their lovely manor in search of advice on the subject of love, or to commission a painting.

  This new book they would be able to read in the drawing-room, together with Georgiana, though it would take some getting used to after their intimate sessions. Elizabeth generally liked their quiet evenings at home, talking, reading or playing and listening to music, but she wanted the three of them to enjoy the entertainment the city offered as well. It was obviously very easy to live in a large city and not visit any theatres or concerts at all, especially when it was snowing outside. But this spring they would all go back to the country, so if they wanted to enjoy city life, they needed to do it in winter.

  The next day Georgiana was back at Mr Fielding's place, with Elizabeth this time, to learn how to tune a piano. She knew it would not be easy no matter what Eric said, he probably had years of experience with tuning and had most likely forgotten how hard it had been to learn to do really well. But Georgiana had mastered a lot of techniques most pianists never managed and she knew she would learn this skill, too. Instead of starting straight away, Eric offered them a cup of tea, which they were glad to accept, and as they enjoyed a very superior brew he explained the theory and showed them the tools they were going to need.

  'I've bought a starter's set for you, you can take these when we are done today and practise. Do you have a second instrument in your London house?

  For I suppose your main piano is too valuable to risk snapping a string.'

  'We have an older instrument in storage in one of the unused rooms, I've had a moderate fire there from the moment we set a date, I hope the wood has

  settled enough to use that piano to practise on.'

  'Great, it will be totally out of tune, a perfect way to start. If it's still drying out that's all for the better, you can tune it again the next day, until it stays true.'

  The explanation seemed simple enough, and to prove he was a brave man and confident of his teaching skills, Eric let them practise on his own superior instrument. He had detuned some keys at random to let them test their hearing. First to test the instrument was Georgiana herself.

  Advised to start in the middle scales, she immediately found a really sour key, and with Eric's help, bending over the body of the instrument, she first applied two mutes to the supporting strings of that key in the only correct way. As she prepared to apply the tuning hammer as he had described it should be used, he did not warn her against using too much force, Eric was her teacher and he knew she always started out 'piano'.

  Elizabeth striking the key again and again Georgiana compared its pitch to the tuning fork and in this case, to the keys beside it that were in perfect tune, and she found the right pitch for this key easily. Then she removed one of the mutes and repeated the process, and yet another time until the entire key was in perfect tune once again.

  Then it was Elizabeth's turn. She found the next out-of-tune key easily, though it was a lot less obviously sour. Eric helped her place the mutes, then showed her how to apply the tuning hammer. Asking Georgiana, who was now sitting on the stool, to strike the key so she could check whether she had placed the tuning hammer on the right string, gained her a compliment from Eric.

  'Great thinking, Mrs Darcy! Always check whether the tuning hammer is placed correctly, or you'll risk snapping the string.'

  The tuning fork was of no further use, Elizabeth would have to rely on her hearing to tune this key, and she managed very well. The middle octave was easy, especially since most keys on Eric's piano were at perfect pitch. The higher and lower reach of the piano would get more difficult.

  Georgiana understood Eric perfectly as he explained the way the other octaves should relate to the middle one, and she was amazed to hear about inharmonics, understanding instinctively that this was what the person who kept their instruments at Pemberley in tune could not compensate for. Eric had soured a few keys in the higher and lower range to illustrate the shift in

  frequencies that caused the inharmonics, and as he demonstrated Elizabeth got it, too. She merely lacked the extensive theoretical knowledge of music that Georgiana had picked up in her years of sincere study of the instrument, she did have the hearing and the intelligence to understand.

  After tuning sour keys all over Eric's piano they couldn't find anything amiss anymore, and Eric beamed with pride over their accomplishment.

  'But tuning an entire instrument is a different matter, for you've only tuned separate keys today. Please start on your own piano tomorrow and try to get beyond the first octave. Then we can take some time to check your work before dinner, and I'll be able to help you along for the next octaves if you need the help. Which you probably will. But though you may have difficulty tuning an entire instrument, I think you can both correct inharmonics now, and adjust the slight sourness of your friend's instrument, so you can enjoy your stay there without losing practise time. Let me give you this scheme as well, this is how you can remember the correct intervals for each octave. I'm sure Georgiana will not mind explaining it to you, Mrs Darcy.'

  At the moment Eric called her by her first name Georgiana could see him cringe, what a blunder, he really needed to be more careful if he didn't want to get caught by Fitzwilliam tomorrow night. But Elizabeth ignored Eric's mistake.

  'Thank you very much, Mr Fielding, I'll make sure I'll heed her very well, and I really hope we'll manage to tune at least the first octave. I'm looking forward to hearing your concerto, very much so. Fitzwilliam told me you played a delightful little set together as well, with some impressive singing.

  Will you please let me hear that, too?'

  With a very charming, even happy, smile Eric replied, 'If Miss Darcy doesn't mind we can play those songs immediately. You have both worked so hard and done so well you deserve a little fun.'

  Georgiana realised that Eric actually loved playing those simple songs together. Either he was really very much in love with her, relishing the opportunity to be close to her and sing with her, or he had a broader appreciation of music than Georgiana thought. Hopefully it was the last, for she was really still much too young to fall in love, sh
e would hate to break Eric's heart that way. As they sat on the stool together and Eric carefully chose the right music sheets she could clearly feel his body touch hers, and it did not tremble or show any other sign of excitement or nerves. He was

  totally relaxed, though clearly expecting to enjoy himself very much. He counted down from three before they started with the instrumental piece, very fast and technically difficult but such fun to play together. Then another virtuoso piece, and Eric clearly found this merely very entertaining.

  When he changed the sheets of music once more he observed, 'I've always taken music so seriously, I never knew playing could be so diverting. I bought those sheets to show you that music can simply be enjoyed, I thought you needed to learn that, but now I think you already knew and I needed to learn. Do you ever play simple tunes like these?'

  Nearly laughing out loud Georgiana replied, 'I've just learned a new tune today, let me play it for you while you change the music.'

  And she played the folk song Elizabeth taught her that morning before lunch. It was still simple and very catchy, and she kept it short because Eric was ready to go on.

  'That is very entertaining,' he remarked, 'and still it seems to have a kind of melancholy theme. I like it, I suppose it is very suitable to dance to as well.

  Very useful for a wedding. Where did you learn that?'

  'Elizabeth taught it to me just this morning. She has a whole arsenal of tunes like that, and I'm going to learn them all, and set all her sisters dancing.'

  'I have four sisters, Mr Fielding,' Elizabeth now observed, 'I had to play lively tunes to tire them out before I could get some peace. Miss Darcy will need those tunes to survive a week with my family. My eldest sister is the bride, you see, so they will all be there.'

  Eric liked Elizabeth as well, that much was clear, as he laughed and observed, 'I know exactly what you mean, Mrs Darcy, I have three sisters myself and a few brothers as well. But sadly we didn't own a piano, and anyway, music wouldn't have helped to quiet down the boys.'