Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley tds-2

Home > Historical > Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley tds-2 > Page 21
Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley tds-2 Page 21

by Sharon Lathan


  “William! I cannot believe you are here! Oh, how I missed you! How I love you!” Her words tumbled over each other, interspersed with kisses, her fingers moving through his hair and over his exposed neck.

  Darcy laughed and was eventually required to grasp her face in his hands to halt her jubilant enthusiasm. “Elizabeth,” he whispered with a gentle smile, slowly brushing over her mouth as he caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. Their eyes met, love evident and mingled with profound longing. “I love you,” he softly uttered, then his mouth descended, interrupting any reply with a firm, encompassing kiss that deepened rapidly. Bodies pressed harshly together, they kissed as if starved and the only nourishment available was in the breath and taste of the other. Darcy's lingering pain was erased in the rapture of embracing and kissing his delicious wife.

  Neither of them had any cognizant awareness of where they were. Their mental states were so enamored with desire and bliss that it was entirely probable they were minutes away from falling to the ground in raging passion. Thankfully, perhaps, they were interrupted.

  “William!” Georgiana's delighted squeal jolted them both to reality. Darcy turned to his sister as she rushed through the door, Mary and Kitty trailing. Weakly holding Lizzy with his left arm, he hugged his sister and kissed her cheek.

  “Georgie, how are you, dearest? Miss Mary, Miss Kitty,” he said as he inclined his head. “It is a pleasure to see you both. I believe I am indebted to you for your excellent care of my wife in my absence. Name your desired reward, and I shall grant it.” Kitty giggled and Mary smiled serenely.

  Lizzy slipped away from his side and he glanced over with alarm. He observed her slowly returning to the flowers strewn on the dirt. Georgiana was babbling in unrestrained joy, apparently intending to summarize the week's events in the next two minutes. Darcy attempted to listen to his sister and the occasional interjections from Mary and Kitty, responding appropriately while focusing on his wife. Both arms now ached with loss and he sensed a tension in her posture, or more aptly a hesitancy and mild trembling. She bent to retrieve the scattered flowers, hands frequently moving to her face, but he could not determine the cause as her back was to him.

  Just as he took a step toward her, she rose and turned, smiling brightly but tears evident on her cheeks. He hastened to her, brushing the moisture away. “Beloved, are you well?”

  Lizzy waved his concern away airily. “I am perfect, now, my darling. Simply overemotional these days. I cry at the drop of a hat, so be duly warned.” She laughed and smiled, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek while grasping his hand. She frowned, peering at his fingers. “Your hand is so cold and pale.” She raised the right to compare. “William, what is wrong with your hand?”

  “It is of no moment, love. We shall discuss it later, I promise.”

  Tears were gathering again. “William…” she whispered, but a footman appeared to announce breakfast. Darcy kissed her lightly and smiled.

  “Excuse me, ladies, I must freshen up then shall join you in the dining room.” He turned to his wife. “I will not be long,” he began, but she was vehemently shaking her head.

  “I am not tolerating you out of my sight! I can help you change and clean up.”

  “The job will likely not be accomplished if you follow me into my dressing room,” he declared quietly in her ear with a grin.

  Lizzy tossed her head as she clasped his arm and steered toward the door. “I will take my chances. Besides, meals have been known to wait around here without severe deficiency, Mr. Darcy. Martha,” she said, addressing a passing maid and ignoring her husband's chuckle, “please place these in the Master Chambers in several vases, and inform Samuel that Mr. Darcy has arrived.”

  Samuel, however, was waiting for his Master with fresh water and supplies. Lizzy authoritatively sat Darcy on his stool and clinically began unbuttoning his coats. It was a struggle for Darcy to not reciprocate by attacking her garments, the nearness of her body frankly driving him mad and only Samuel's presence forestalling him. A jolt of pain when she unwittingly tugged his coats over his shoulder—eliciting an audible gasp and grimace as he instinctively grabbed her hand and jerked backward—replaced all romantic musings temporarily.

  “Elizabeth, love, I have a confession,” he hoarsely stated, gingerly rubbing the throbbing shoulder and meeting her anxious eyes.

  Never releasing his gaze, Lizzy said, “Samuel, please leave us. I will assist Mr. Darcy.” Once the door was closed she caressed his face, speaking softly, “You are hurt. Tell me what happened.”

  “I did not wish to distress you further, beloved. Please forgive me for not being forthright. It occurred when the Duke was foolishly attempting to ride Athena. You remember which one she is?” Lizzy nodded, working to carefully extradite him from his clothes. “Well, he was thrown, as I wrote, but I did not include the fact that I was in the corral as well trying to control her.” He flinched and inhaled with a hiss as the waistcoat was pulled away. Lizzy gently elevated his left arm as she lifted his shirt. He groaned, then continued through grit teeth. “Athena did not appreciate her treatment, so she wrenched my arm and lashed out forcefully, as you can now discern for yourself,” he finished in a lame whisper.

  A red impression of a horse's hoof in flawless detail graced his upper left chest, surrounded by colorful blotches from sternum to nipple to axilla to shoulder blade. His left arm was noticeably paler and grasp weaker, although the tactility was thankfully normal. Tears were coursing down Lizzy's face as she tenderly palpated the area. Darcy brushed her cheeks. “Do not cry, beloved, it is merely a bruise and muscle strain. Trust me when I say I have suffered much worse. The physician examined me thoroughly. There are no broken bones, the skin intact, and the sensitivity is returning. Please do not fret, Elizabeth.”

  “You should be resting, not on a horse for two days.” She sobbed, leaning in to plant soft kisses along the contused flesh.

  Darcy again inhaled sharply, but not from pain. His hands encircled her hips and bottom as he buried his face into her hair-cloaked neck. “I could no longer survive without you, my love,” he murmured huskily. “I needed you to heal me, not rest.”

  She withdrew to gaze into his face, eyes shimmering, smiling sweetly, and touching each feature tenderly. “Sometimes I am yet amazed at how deeply I love you, Fitzwilliam. This week has been torture, but it has been enlightening in revealing to me how profoundly I require you in my life. Not that I doubted our love and unity in any meaningful way, but I do not think I fully realized all the inconsequentials. Hearing your voice, sharing the little moments of my day, reading with you, taking sips of your brandy, stealing food off your plate so I do not appear a glutton, dressing to match your attire, arguing with you over some silly thing. Do you have any notion of how often I would think, ‘Wait until I tell William what so-in-so said.’ Or, ‘How William will laugh when I tell him this’?” They laughed together, Darcy nodding in absolute understanding.

  Lizzy smoothed the hair away from his face, cupping his jaw and kissing lavishly before again withdrawing. He moaned lowly, eyes glazed with desire. She removed his right hand from her thigh and kissed each finger before placing his palm over the soft mound on her belly. “Mostly I missed sharing our child with you,” she whispered, smiling joyously at the wonder crossing his expression as he gently pressed and explored.

  “I cannot believe the difference a week has made.” He was grinning foolishly, unaware that Elizabeth had loosened her dress until it fell over his head where he was nestled into her stomach. She laughed as he freed himself from the fabric, grinning up at her as she untied the chemise and exposed her front side.

  Bared, the small bulge and thickened waistline were clearly visible, as was the rest of her glorious body, placing a serious dilemma before Darcy. His groin lurched in response to her luscious flesh, but he could not resist reverently touching the evidence of their child. Tears sprang to his eyes, and, kissing her abdomen, he spoke chokingly, “Sweet child of mine, I am home. This
is your father and I love you. Oh God, Elizabeth, this is so amazing! Can you feel her often? Will I be able to yet?”

  “I feel him frequently. Tiny flickers deep inside only; however, I think we are close to feeling him externally. Maybe another week or two.”

  Darcy was absently caressing her belly while studying her eyes. “Have you been well? Any further pains? That news deeply concerned me, but I trusted Aunt Madeline's opinion, and you said they ceased.”

  Lizzy shook her head. “Physically, I am marvelous. My only pains have been in my heart.” Fingers laced through his hair, Lizzy continued breathlessly, “Fitzwilliam, my lover and my soul, if you are not too famished or hurting I would prefer to make love. I have longed for your touch on my body and the ecstasy of our joining. I will handle you delicately,” she finished with a mischievous smirk.

  In truth, Darcy was famished, having not eaten since the previous night. Nonetheless, his hunger for her was far greater. Running hands inside her chemise, he again kissed her belly as he rose slowly, placing moist kisses up her torso to bosom while stroking her shuddering flesh. Lizzy moaned, arching into him and releasing a shaky breath while trailing fingers over his back and shoulders, carefully avoiding the damaged areas, panting with need and delight. He released her breast suddenly with a groan, claiming her mouth in a pervasive kiss as he crushed her body into his, pain seemingly forgotten. He was clearly lost in a haze of desire. The weak hand kneaded one perfect breast as he continued to ravage her mouth, intoxicated by her breath and succulent lips.

  Lizzy was no less aroused, but his dressing room was not where she wished to love her husband. Twisting out of his clutches with effort, mildly amused at the expression of glazed confusion flittering over his face, she took his hand and led him into their bedroom. She sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to remove his boots. Darcy was a man obsessed. The pain of his shoulder was insignificant compared to the raging agony to love his wife. Fleetingly, he wondered how he had ever managed to pass so many years without intimacy when one week was nearly killing him! Of course, he rationally understood that it was not intimacy in the clinical, carnal aspect that he desired, but the consuming demand to bond with his wife. To communicate with her in this profoundly fulfilling way, to give her pleasure, to feel her and taste her, to bury himself into her as they became one body for a time, to possess her as only he ever would, to express his passionate love for her… it was paradise.

  He played with her hair as she completed her task, peeling the chemise off each creamy shoulder as he trembled with desire. She looked up at him from her stooped position between his knees, hands traveling over strong thighs to the buttons of his breeches. “You should lie down to avoid hurting your shoulder.” She rose to her knees, stroking under the loosened waistband to his bottom while slipping the tip of her tongue into his navel.

  Darcy gasped, hands tightening on her shoulders. “God, my Lizzy, do you have any idea how desperately I need you!” She was trailing moist kisses up to his chest with hands probing. Lizzy stood finally, allowing the chemise to fall. Darcy groaned harshly, shaking his head slightly and closing his eyes. “Beloved, I should warn you. My self-control is naught.” His voice was rough with urgency. Meeting her eyes with voracious yearning rawly exposed, he stammered, “At the merest touch of you I am certain I will explode in utter rapture.”

  Lizzy smiled, pulling him to his feet. She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Lay down and fret not.” He removed his breeches, joining her on their bed, carefully lying flat with Lizzy to his right, encircled with his strong arm. She kissed his neck, caressing over his firm chest, whispering into his ear, “I can assure you, Fitzwilliam, love of my life, my hunger for you is as tremendous.”

  With simultaneous sounds of pleasure, they kissed, greedily absorbing each other, drowning in unparalleled love. Always conscious of the injury to his left side, Lizzy loved her husband with abandon, their mutual delight fulfilling and powerful.

  Afterwards they lay entwined with Lizzy clutched tightly in Darcy's right arm for several blissful minutes, breathing heavily, and relishing the delightful sensations yet coursing through their bodies as well as the astounding felicity in merely holding the other. Lizzy was crying silently, tears of contentment and relief. With a soft grunt, Darcy turned to the side, hugging her tightly to him while smoothing the tousled tresses of her hair away from her face.

  He frowned. “Beloved, why are you crying?”

  Lizzy smiled and shook her head. “Happiness, love. I warned you, did I not? I cry frequently, yet now I judge for good reason.” She fingered his hair. “I missed you so terribly, William, and am delirious to have you back. I love you, you know.”

  “Yes, I know.” He kissed her, caressing over her body, already sensing reawakening desire, but she pulled away and snatched his hand. Kissing his cool fingers tenderly before sitting up, leaning to bestow a quick kiss to his forehead, she then leapt out of bed. “Where…?”

  “You need nourishment of the substantial variety,” she declared decisively, wrapping his enormous robe around her.

  Darcy smiled. “You stole my robe.”

  “Borrowed out of necessity,” she corrected. “I furthermore liberally splashed your cologne on it, which will likely render it undesirable to you, so I guess it now belongs to me,” she concluded smugly, approaching him with two more pillows retrieved from the armoire. “Here, let me help you up. I will prop you up with these pillows and we can have breakfast in bed. Easy, dearest, allow me to… William! Behave!” He had taken advantage of the gaping opening to the voluminous robe and was caressing her skin and amusing himself at her breast. “Mr. Darcy, I am serious! How can I nurse you to health if you are a belligerent patient?” She slapped searching hands and sternly scowled at him, but he unrepentantly seized her head and pulled close for a thorough kiss. Lizzy melted, willingly relenting.

  He teased her lips, murmuring his love huskily. “Call for a tray, my Lizzy, but swiftly. Relay our apologies to the girls, for I intend to keep you in our bed all day.” He grinned. “The Master has spoken, and I am wounded so must be granted whatever I wish.” Lizzy snorted but did not argue.

  Couching her phrases carefully, Lizzy explained to Georgiana their need for solitude. Georgiana expressed complete understanding, smiling sweetly and pretending not to notice her brother's robe nor Lizzy tangled hair. The girls had plans to picnic at Hyde Park anyway. The tray was heavily laden and Darcy's stomach released a sustained and booming growl at the sight. Lizzy ate as well, although she had eaten upon rising, having found that her increased appetite would not permit her waiting until breakfast was formally served. She assisted Darcy, claiming his invalid state necessitated feeding him. He did not dispute the assertion, kissing her frequently or stroking her satin skin between bites.

  They sat close, legs entwined and talking softly amid the kisses. They both avoided the topic of Lady Catherine. Lizzy was unaware of Lord Matlock's letter and simply refused to spoil their reunion. Darcy felt much the same, augmented by an unrelenting guilt. Instead, she humorously debriefed him on the week's events, the throng of people she had met, and the fascinating conversations. All the while she massaged his enervated arm and shoulder with fragrant oil, forcing life back into it.

  Darcy groaned, finally sated, relaxing into the pillows and closing his eyes. “Dearest, that feels marvelous. As always, your every touch enlivens me.”

  “Provide me clarity on Mr. Joshua Daniels. Is he suitable for Mary?”

  Darcy answered sleepily, “I do not know him as well as his father. Mr. Andrew Daniels has been our family's solicitor for years, as was his father before him. It seems to have become a familial business, although that would matter naught if they were not superb financial handlers and lawyers. There is an elder son, Benjamin, who works in the firm as well.” He paused to yawn with jaw breaking intensity. “I believe there are two or three younger siblings. Anyway, Joshua is a pleasant young man, intelligent, reserved, and serious. The firm manag
es numerous accounts besides ours, and keenly aware of the fees charged to me, I can readily conclude their overall income is substantial.” He opened one eye to peer at his wife. “Are you requesting I play matchmaker?”

  “No. If Mr. Daniels is interested in Mary, it is his place to pursue.” She smiled winsomely at her spouse. “Let us pray he is more eloquent at expressing his affection then other gentlemen I could name.”

  Darcy smiled. “Note: I did not add foolish or moronic to the list of Mr. Daniels's attributes. If the attraction was as immediate as you intimate, I daresay he will proceed with fluent grace and alacrity, unlike other gentlemen I could name.” He chuckled, tugging her onto his lap and purposefully untying the sash of his robe.

  Lizzy repositioned herself to straddle his thighs, massaging gently along his shoulders. “Your grace was merely gradual in revelation, my love. You have since redeemed your past missteps perfectly adequately, I judge.” She was smiling impishly.

  “Perfectly adequate is all? This will not do. Let me see if I can further improve your opinion of me.” His hands caressed along her thighs and around her bottom, his own smile quite naughty.

  “I thought you were about to fall asleep.” She sighed, kissing the top of his head as he nestled his face between her breasts.

  “Elizabeth,” he sighed happily, voice muffled and resonant, “my precious, beloved, beautiful wife. I fully intend to sleep with you enclosed in my arms, but first I absolutely must shower you with kisses and caresses. I covet the warmth of your skin under my hands and lips and body. I yearn to love you slowly, wholly absorbing your essence into my soul as you attain rapture in my embrace. It is essential that I whisper endless words of love and faithfulness and desire and happiness into your dainty ears.”

  As he spoke he removed the robe, brushing and fondling over her body. With a fluid roll, she was on her back, spread before him in all her naked glory, his right arm supporting him. “William, your arm… we should stay upright.” He halted her words with a sensual kiss, left hand traveling with deliberate patience over her abdomen. Lizzy's massaging had done wonders. His arm was warmer and stronger, his amazingly masterful touch not the least bit diminished as was abundantly established in the following minutes.

 

‹ Prev