The Engagement

by Ola Wegner

Elizabeth walked to the window, glancing at the snow-covered courtyard. “I would like to walk to the stables to meet Mr. Darcy there.”

  “I will send the footman with you to show you the way,” Mrs. Reynolds suggested.

  “Excellent. I am afraid I would have trouble finding the way by myself.”

  Half an hour later, Elizabeth, wrapped up in the long coat lined with fur, with tall boots with thick soles on her legs, was trotting through the snow towards the stables. She found Darcy right in front of the long, handsome building, talking to several men. On seeing her, he abandoned their company, hurrying in her direction.

  “Has something happened?” were his first words.

  “You said that we would spend the afternoon together,” she reminded him. “I decided to meet you here.”

  “I am pleased, my dearest. However, on such a cold day, you should have stayed home.”

  Elizabeth was quite warm apart from her face and the tip of her nose, which felt like a piece of ice, and she told him so, adding brightly, “The grounds are breathtaking with the frozen lake and frosted trees.”

  Her assertions did not calm him. “Nevertheless, you are not accustomed to such harsh conditions. It would be for the best to return home immediately.”

  With reluctance, Elizabeth accepted his arm and they walked back home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elizabeth walked into the bedroom dressed for the night, her hair braided down her back. Mrs. Pike continued to be a delight. She was most helpful but also very tactful. Even when Elizabeth asked to have prepared the see-through nightgown, the gift from Aunt Gardiner, Mrs. Pike did not even bat an eyelid, but did exactly what she had been asked to do. Elizabeth had no doubt that she would adjust very quickly to the comfort of having a maid to her own disposal.

  She sat close to the fireplace, enjoying the warmth coming from it. She had to admit that Darcy had been correct on saying how much colder Pemberley was when compared to Longbourn or London. As they had walked through the house today, Darcy giving her the private tour of the parts of the house which she had not seen previously, the chill ran down her back more than once despite her warm, woollen dress and a thick shawl around her shoulders.

  Darcy must have crept into the room like a cat, because Elizabeth was not aware of his presence until she felt a hand on her shoulder and soft lips on her cheek.

  “How are you, dearest?” he asked, kneeling next to her.

  “I am well.”

  He took a seat on a chair, facing her, leaning forward. “I wish for you to be happy here.”

  “I am, I will be.”

  “You left your home, family, Jane, your father, the Gardiners. I expect you to feel homesick and lonely, especially in the first months.”

  She reached to touch his knee. “I have not had time to feel homesick yet. As for loneliness, I have you.”

  “Nevertheless, remember that I am here to assist you in any way I can.”

  Elizabeth’s response to his words was a kiss. Soon she was moved to sit on his lap as his hands stroked down her arms, sides and legs.

  “Have you recovered?” he enquired, nibbling at her neck.

  “Recovered?” she repeated distractedly, enjoying his caresses too much to pay attention to what he was saying.

  He stopped his ministrations and pulled back slightly to look her in the eye. “I do realize that I was quite demanding on our wedding night.”

  With a smile, Elizabeth rose to her feet, standing in front of him with her back to the fireplace. With quick fingers she untied her robe, allowing it to fall to the ground.

  Darcy’s dark eyes roamed over her body clad in a sheer shift as he murmured in a thick voice, “I guess that our thoughts and desires have gone in the same direction this evening. Did your aunt give you only this one nightgown, or perhaps you have a couple more similar ones?”

  “Only this one.”

  “You should purchase more. I would welcome you wearing one of these every night.”

  “It is not the most comfortable attire,” she whispered. “I much prefer the usual simple cotton shifts.”

  Darcy put his hands on her hips, drawing her closer to him. “Then I insist on removing it.” He stood to his full height, his fingers gathering the thin material and lifting it up over her head, removing it completely. “My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”

  Quickly they found their way to bed. Elizabeth enjoyed his ardent kisses as he pulled her underneath her in the security of his strong embrace. She relaxed under his gentle touch, especially enjoying the attention he gave the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

  She was most astonished, however, when her husband suddenly rolled them over so that he was on his back and she was perched on his waist, with her legs curled awkwardly on his sides. She placed her open palms on the wide plains of his chest, unsure what to do next and what was expected from her.

  “It should feel far more pleasurable for you this way,” he explained, keeping her firmly in place, his hands on her waist.

  “Fitzwilliam?” she enquired unsurely.

  One of his hands left her side to cup her cheek. “You are considerably shorter than I. It has been a long time since I began to consider how to love you so we could see eye to eye.”

  “Since how long?”

  “Very long,” he assured. “Come, kiss me.”

  She leaned down, touching her lips with his. His hand on her hip pressed her down onto him, while his other hand cupped her breast, his thumb teasing the tip.

  “Move with me,” he encouraged.

  “I cannot,” she stammered, avoiding looking into his eyes. She was embarrassed. She distinctively felt his hardness pressing in her. He could see her clearly in all her nudity. It was too much to bear.

  He was not upset with her denial, but he changed his own position, sitting up, still cradling her to him, only now they were face to face, their chests touching. She hid her face in the crook of his neck as he stroked her back, guiding her movements with his hand on her bottom.

  Elizabeth gasped as he slipped inside of her body. They moved together for a moment, face to face, Elizabeth adjusting to the new sensations. She had to admit that this unusual position was indeed far more pleasurable to what she had experienced before. Soon enough she stopped caring whether he could see her naked and vulnerable, and she was moving with him, throwing her head back and moaning loudly. She must have bit down on his shoulder in the moment of greatest passion, but she only realized it when she collapsed on top of him, boneless and sweaty.

  It was quite a long time before her heart stopped hammering in her chest. Darcy did nothing to remove her from him, only covered them both with a sheet. His hand was stroking her bare back repeatedly, reaching from her shoulder blade to her thigh and repeating the motion many times all over again.

  The thought crossed her mind that her Fitzwilliam seemed to be much more knowledgeable about matters of the flesh than she would have expected him to be. She was not naive enough to believe that a man of his age, experience and position could be entirely innocent. He had been to university; he had had opportunity to travel abroad. But foremost, he was a man, not a sheltered young girl raised in the country like her. During their engagement he had told her much about his life, but he never mentioned any previous love interests. Did it mean that he had none? The way he touched her was a testimony to his worldliness in that respect, especially in Elizabeth’s eyes. He knew exactly what to do, there was no hesitation, not a trace of fumbling in his moves, kisses and embraces.

  “Are you asleep?” he enquired, touching her cheek to make her look at him.

  Elizabeth caught his gaze with her own. “I was thinking,” she admitted.

  Gently, he shifted them so she lay down on her side, facing him. “About?” he asked, searching her eyes.

  “That you are a kind man and very good to me.”

  He smiled boyishly. “I do hope so. Your good opinion is of utmost importance to me.”

  Elizabeth
snuggled closer into his arms as he covered her with an additional woollen blanket. Her husband was the best of men. His past did not bother her, even though it was self-evident to her that he had loved another one or even other ones before her. She trusted him. He would have told her himself if there had been the slightest reason for her to worry about the women from his past.

  ***

  The first weeks of her marriage passed quickly, with Elizabeth adjusting well to her life as Mrs. Darcy. Everything was new and exciting, beginning from the change in her daily routine and ending on the fact that her nights were at least partially sleepless. Her honest plans to undertake the duties of the mistress of Pemberley with seriousness and devotion were often interrupted, postponed, or even cancelled. Her husband was the one who demanded her attention the most.

  To Elizabeth’s disappointment, the beautiful snow which welcomed her to Pemberley melted away, and it began to rain heavily. It was cold and windy, which forbade her from exploring the grounds. Nevertheless, Darcy was quite resourceful at filling their days with pleasurable activities, even when they were restricted to staying indoors. Mrs. Reynolds was asked to inform any possible visitors, mainly neighbours who wanted to pay a visit to the newlyweds, that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were currently away and not admitting anyone.

  In the years to come, Elizabeth would often return to the memories of her first month of marriage with great fondness. She remembered it as a time when she was all alone with her husband, sleeping late, laughing, chasing around the house and playing silly games behind the closed doors of the library without the fear of being seen by anyone. They were not interrupted by social obligations, the relatives, or their own children. In Elizabeth’s view, it was an ideal honeymoon, even though it was freezing cold and it rained constantly.

  ***

  “You have received a letter from Jane?” Darcy enquired, entering their private sitting room.

  “No, from Charlotte Lucas,” she responded. She was curled on the cushioned seat in the wide bow window. So far it was her favourite spot to read in the entire house. Not only was the light excellent, but also there was a beautiful view of the lake, park, and hills behind it.

  Darcy took a seat on the other end of the window, pulling her feet over onto his lap. “What did she write?”

  “She gave birth to twins, a baby girl and a boy, three weeks ago. She is recovering well while the babies are healthy and beautiful. They named them Catherine Elizabeth and William Richard. She writes that she would prefer Elizabeth to be the first name for a girl, but her husband insisted on Catherine. Charlotte is relieved that the children do not resemble Mr. Collins in the least. They have fine, pale blonde hair and large blue eyes.”

  Darcy tickled the sole of her feet, to which she tried to pull away her legs, but he stopped her with a steady grasp on her ankles. “I am not surprised that they do not resemble Collins,” he said.

  “When it comes to such tiny little ones, it is impossible to decide about such matters, as the features are only beginning to shape. I remember my cousins when they were that age. It was impossible to decide for certain whether they looked like Aunt Madeline or Uncle Edward until they were at least four or five months old.”

  “What I meant to say is that Mrs. Collins may have reasons to believe that the children will certainly not resemble her husband.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes locked on Darcy’s profile as he tried to tickle her feet again.

  “What is your meaning?”

  Darcy shrugged his broad shoulders. “Nothing of consequence.”

  With a decided tug, Elizabeth freed her legs from his hold only to kneel beside him. “You know something,” she stated. She cupped his cheek to make him look into her eyes. “Tell me.”

  Darcy shook his head. “I should not have mentioned anything,” he murmured.

  “But you did. Now finish. Please.”

  “It is simple enough. I have reasons to believe that your cousin is not the father of little Catherine Elizabeth and William Richard.”

  “Who is it, then?”

  “Can you not guess?”

  Elizabeth frowned heavily. “I cannot. There were hardly any men at Rosings or Hunsford last spring when the twins had to be begotten. You do not think that it could be some servant or your aunt’s steward? That I will not believe.”

  “Elizabeth, truly, there were men at Rosings Park last spring.”

  Elizabeth sat back, staring at him imploringly. “Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, her voice no more than a whisper.

  Darcy breathed out in relief. “I am glad that you have not accused me of the deed.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I do believe that at the time you were far more occupied with me to even look elsewhere.” She leaned back to him, touching his arm. “How do you know about it? Did Colonel Fitzwilliam confide in you?”

  “God forbid. I saw them one day.”

  “Where? What did you see?”

  “In the forest. There is an abandoned hut there, we played there as children together with Anne.”

  “I remember. I walked by it a few times on my daily walks but I never saw anyone in there. Perhaps you are mistaken, perhaps they were only talking.”

  “Believe me, dearest, they were doing much more than just talking. You remember how we witnessed Bingley leaving Jane’s bedroom that night at Netherfield? What I saw was very much of the same nature.”

  “It is the reason why you were so jealous over Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

  “Perhaps. After all, the marriage vows did not stop him from seducing your friend.”

  “I am not certain that it was him who seduced her. It might have been Charlotte who initiated that.”

  Darcy watched her closely. “You do not seem particularly offended with such a possibility.”

  “I am not. If I were married to a man like Mr. Collins, I would not wish to share his bed, nor to have a child with him.” She put her arms around his neck. “If I were in Charlotte’s position, I would seduce you, Mr. Darcy. At least, I would try.”

  He pulled her to him, sitting her on his lap. “Do not even mention the possibility of being married to another man, especially such a silly one like your cousin. Nevertheless, I am pleased to hear that you would choose to seduce me and not my cousin.”

  Elizabeth settled into his embrace, quieting down, many thoughts running through her head. She could hardly blame Charlotte for what she had done. Colonel Fitzwilliam was a handsome, kind, gentle, and intelligent man, not to mention that he was impeccably dressed and took a bath at least once every few days. All that could not be said about Mr. Collins.

  “What are your thoughts, dearest?” Darcy asked, kissing her temple.

  “I should send a present for the babies.”

  “You should,” he agreed.

  “Do you think that Colonel Fitzwilliam knows about it?”

  “He may not be aware. I cannot imagine that he and Mrs. Collins keep correspondence. I do not believe that he writes to Lady Catherine either. My guess is that he does not know. He will learn about it eventually.”

  “Will you tell him when he comes here with Georgiana?”

  Darcy was silent for a moment longer. “I probably should mention it to him, and also make him aware that I know of the children’s true parentage. In this situation I am not certain if I would want him to marry Georgiana. After all that happened with George Wickham, she does not deserve a husband who has out-of-wedlock children with a married woman. Let us hope that Georgiana will not take a fancy to Colonel Fitzwilliam after all. We must introduce some decent young men to her once she is eighteen. She should have a choice.”

  “I am not certain what to think of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s conduct, but as for Charlotte, I am truly happy for her.”

  “You are?”

  “She has beautiful little twins with a man she liked, if not loved.”

  “What about Mr. Collins? Should we not pity him?”

  “He deserves it,” Elizabeth spoke firmly.
“I could never find any goodness in him.”

  Darcy groaned loudly, hiding his face in her throat. “I do not look forward to facing Colonel Fitzwilliam when he brings Georgiana home in two days’ time.”

  “You must,” she said, gently tugging at his brown locks. “Especially if he seriously considers marrying Georgiana in a few years. Colonel Fitzwilliam should know that he fathered not one child but two.”

  “There still might be a possibility that the twins are Collins’s.”

  “There is,” Elizabeth agreed, “but I doubt it. Charlotte is clever. She kept her husband at arm’s length and she told me herself that they spent very little time together. They had separate bedrooms. During my stay at Hunsford, my room was next to Charlotte’s, and I never heard anything indicating that he paid her nightly visits.”

  Darcy sighed, kissing her neck. “I do not envy my cousin, but he is not some youth. He knew what he was doing. He should have thought about the consequences of his actions.”

  Chapter Twenty

  From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth watched her husband talking with Colonel Fitzwilliam, their fine figures cut sharply against the light coming from the fireplace. Darcy’s expression was neutral, but Colonel Fitzwilliam’s forehead was drawn into a heavy frown. She could only assume that Darcy had just mentioned to his cousin of Mrs. Collins giving birth to a baby girl and boy almost exactly nine months after his departure from Kent.

  Elizabeth turned her attention to Georgiana, not wishing the gentlemen to guess that she was observing them.

  Her new sister was giving her a detailed account of her stay with her aunt and uncle, Earl and Countess of Matlock, at Matlock Hall. “Everyone at Matlock is so very much pleased that Henrietta is with child,” the girl said.

  “Lady Henrietta is the wife of the elder brother of Colonel Fitzwilliam, am I correct?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Indeed she is. The Matlocks hope for a boy.”

  “The heir to the name, title and the lands,” Elizabeth guessed. “I can understand that very well. There will be no more Bennets in Herdforshire, as I have no brother.”