Darcy shrugged. “No doubt.”
“To be honest,” Bingley continued, “you have Hurst to thank. He did not trust Caroline to hold her tongue and behave herself, and I must admit I cannot but share his opinion. He forbade them to attend today. Of course, Louisa cried and carried on, trying her utmost to change his mind, but he held firm, declaring that the future Mrs. Darcy deserved to celebrate her wedding day with those of her friends who sincerely wish to share in her happiness, not disparage her good name.”
A smile turned up the corners of Darcy’s mouth. “I cannot but agree, as well. I shall have to thank your brother-in-law properly when next we meet.” Properly, of course, meaning a case of the finest brandy from Pemberley’s cellars.
Their attention was then called to the door at the entrance to the church as it opened to admit Jane, who walked toward the altar with a serene smile. It was not difficult to ascertain the direction of Bingley’s thoughts as he watched her approach. By the expression on his face, Darcy expected he was, even at that moment, rethinking the length of his engagement.
It seemed like an eternity had passed before Elizabeth appeared, but when she finally began her slow promenade down the aisle on her father’s arm, Darcy’s breath caught, and he felt a distinct lump form in his throat. Never before had he seen her looking more lovely and more desirable than she was at that moment. She wore an exquisite gown made entirely of snowy white silk. Beautifully draped, the garment flowed to the short train trailing behind her. The cut was simple and sophisticated, and accentuated her curves. The flattering neckline showed her beauty to its full advantage without being too revealing. There was no ornamentation on the dress beyond some intricate embroidery and pearl beadwork along the bodice and hem of her gown. To Mrs. Bennet’s vexation, not a drop of lace was to be seen, but it needed no further embellishment. Adorning Elizabeth’s neck was a beautiful pearl and diamond necklace, a companion piece to her engagement ring. Her hair was swept up and arranged in an elegant style; her locks fastened in place by dozens of pearl hairpins of various sizes, all gleaming in the early morning light of the church. Matching pearl-drop earrings dangled from her ears, and rather than the traditional wedding bonnet, a long length of Belgian lace, procured by her Aunt Gardiner at her mother’s insistence, covered her head.
To Darcy, she looked like royalty. He could hardly contain the joy he felt knowing she was just moments away from becoming his wife. He forgot himself for a moment and started to go to her, but his eagerness was immediately checked by his uncle’s chuckle. Darcy flushed with heat, and when Elizabeth finally reached his side, he saw her eyes sparkling with amusement. As her father placed her hand in his, she gave him a breathtaking smile. Unable to resist her, Darcy returned it with a smile of his own and silently uttered a prayer of thanks for his excellent fortune at having found her.
The minister called them to attention by clearing his throat to begin the ceremony, and Darcy reluctantly released her hand. While Elizabeth seemingly made an effort to attend to everything the elderly gentleman said, Darcy found himself hard-pressed to focus his attention on anything beyond the beautiful woman before him. He was startled back to cognizance when he heard the minister say, “Fitzwilliam Darcy, wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Darcy gazed at Elizabeth and, in a voice brimming with such intensity of feeling that it could not but move her, and many others, as well, replied, “I will.”
From the pew where she stood with her husband, Mrs. Bennet smirked with satisfaction. She was vastly pleased by the match her second-eldest daughter had made for herself. Darcy’s interest in Elizabeth had come as nothing short of a shock to her. That the refined and reticent master of Pemberley was not only drawn to, but actually seemed to prefer, the wild ways and wry wit of her least favorite daughter to the superior beauty and serene countenance of her eldest, was a concept Mrs. Bennet still found rather difficult to grasp. Watching now, however, as that same daughter stood at the altar, pledging her obedience to her wealthy bridegroom, she was forced to concede that Elizabeth looked every inch the mistress of Pemberley.
Indeed, Mr. Bennet had been reluctant to part with so many hundreds of pounds for her gown and trousseau, but, as far as Mrs. Bennet was concerned, it was money well spent, if for no reason other than to gloat over the approving looks and knowing smiles that graced the distinguished faces of certain members of the peerage who happened to be in attendance. In any case, no one could deny that Darcy was completely smitten with his bride, whose beauty on that day, her mother was forced to concede, rivaled that of her own dear Jane.
Elizabeth finished reciting her vows, and upon receiving an encouraging nod from the minister, Darcy took her left hand in his and placed the simple gold wedding band upon her finger, which announced to all who saw it that he and Elizabeth were now man and wife. As their eyes met, a warm, affectionate smile passed between them. Elizabeth looked radiant, and Darcy beamed with uncontainable happiness. They were married! Elizabeth was his wife! Never again would he have to part with her. She was his, now and forever. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her tempting lips and whisk her away to the ends of the earth, but the ceremony was not yet over.
Three-quarters of an hour later they were in Darcy’s coach and on their way back to Darcy House for the wedding breakfast. Elizabeth laid her head against his shoulder as they sat side by side, and a small, contented laugh escaped her lips. Darcy smiled as he held her hand tightly upon his lap, his gaze fixed upon the gleaming gold band she now wore on her left hand. Slowly, he turned his head to place a kiss upon her hair and murmured, “I take it you are well, Mrs. Darcy?”
Elizabeth laughed again. “Yes, extremely well, Mr. Darcy.”
He placed another kiss upon her temple. “I am very glad to hear it. I want you to know I will do everything in my power to ensure your happiness, Elizabeth. I shall deny you nothing that will bring you pleasure. You need only ask.”
Elizabeth withdrew her head from his shoulder and turned so she could look upon his face. The love and devotion she saw in his eyes was overwhelming, and for a moment, she was too overcome to speak. Holding his intense gaze, she drew closer to him and swallowed several times. “Kiss me then, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, and without any further encouragement, he did just that.
* * *
The wedding breakfast had been proclaimed a monumental success by all in attendance, and to Mrs. Bennet’s immense delight, Lord and Lady Matlock had been impressed by all the attention she had paid to even the most minute of details. Even Darcy had to agree that Elizabeth’s mother had quite outdone herself, though her resulting success had been at the expense of his staff, who had suffered immensely under the strain of her command.
As a special surprise to Darcy, Mr. Bennet announced the removal of his entire family party to the Gardiners’ house on Gracechurch Street for the remainder of their stay in London, which would conclude in two weeks’ time. Lord and Lady Matlock invited Georgiana to stay with them in Berkeley Square, as well, and after some further consultation between the two families, an invitation to Matlock House was also extended to Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia so the five young ladies might continue to benefit from one another’s society. Colonel Fitzwilliam made a valiant attempt to disguise his horror at such a prospect, but there was very little he could do about it, since he did not have a house of his own to which he might escape the effusive, not to mention persistent, admiration of Elizabeth’s two youngest sisters. Only out of complete desperation did he plead his case to his cousin for temporary asylum at Darcy House.
As could be expected, his request was met with hearty laughter. “You must be desperate, indeed, to make such an outrageous request of me on my wedding night, Fitzwilliam. But I am afraid I must disappoint
you, Cousin, as I have no plans whatsoever of entertaining the likes of you when I now have a beautiful new wife to distract me with her considerable charms.”
“Be not alarmed, Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam countered in a tone that begged him to reconsider, “I assure you I will be no bother at all. As a soldier in Her Majesty’s Army, I am quite used to amusing myself. I shall not interfere with you and your lovely bride.”
Darcy could not but laugh again. “It pains me to say it, Fitzwilliam, but I am afraid you will just have to bear the Miss Bennets’ visit with fortitude. After all, is that not what they teach you soldiers in the army?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam grumbled something incoherent that Darcy could not quite make out, but laughed at all the same, and before he could be set upon once again by Lydia, quickly moved to quit the room.
It was not until late in the evening that all their guests finally departed Darcy House, leaving the newly married couple completely to themselves but for the servants. The door had barely shut upon Mr. Bennet, who, Darcy suspected, had purposely stayed to such a late hour only to inflict some form of final punishment upon his son-in-law for the liberties he had taken before his marriage to his favorite daughter, when the clock struck nine o’clock.
Without preamble, Darcy pulled Elizabeth into an intimate embrace, claiming her lips with a passionate kiss that left her clinging to him, breathless and wanting more of the same. He was only too happy to oblige her by trailing his lips along the delicate curve of her neck, across her shoulders, to the ample swell of her breasts as they teased him from beyond the neckline of her gown. Not until his attentions produced a moan from his wife did Darcy’s senses finally return, and he discovered they were still standing in the middle of the front hall on full display.
Gathering Elizabeth in his arms, he held her for several moments, willing his rapid breathing to slow. He placed a kiss upon her curls and inhaled her scent. “My wife,” he whispered, his voice full of feeling.
Elizabeth gave him a mischievous smile as her fingers toyed with his cravat. “Is there nothing you would care to show me in your study, Mr. Darcy?”
He stared at her a moment in incomprehension before a rakish smile overspread his face. “I should say not. Tonight, Mrs. Darcy, I shall ravish you properly—in our bed in the master’s chambers, where you belong.”
She giggled, and lifting her easily in his strong arms, he raced up the staircase and down the corridor leading to his private rooms, pausing only long enough to push open the door and kick it closed again with a thrust of his foot. It was with great embarrassment that they were then met by Darcy’s valet, Mr. Stevens, who had been waiting to attend his master.
Without releasing his wife or tearing his gaze from her crimson countenance, Darcy dismissed his rather perturbed valet with strict orders not to return on the morrow unless summoned. Darcy then instructed him to relay a similar message to Sonia, who was, undoubtedly, awaiting Elizabeth in the mistress’s chamber. With what dignity remained in his possession, Mr. Stevens hastened from the room.
Darcy carried his blushing bride to the bed and laid her upon it, reclaiming her mouth with a tenderness that sent delicious shivers through her body. Elizabeth deepened their kisses and coiled her fingers into his hair. She pressed herself against her husband’s strong body and felt his arousal grow even harder against her.
With a moan, Darcy buried his face in her neck and ran his tongue along her flesh while his hands busied themselves with her breasts. Through the silk of her gown, he felt her nipples become hard and took to rolling them between his fingers, eliciting a gasp and then a low moan from Elizabeth. Disentangling her fingers from his hair, she explored his upper body. When she reached his waist, she lingered there, caressing his waist and hips. Darcy rolled onto his back, bringing Elizabeth with him, and kissed her with feeling as she kilted her skirts above her knees and straddled him.
Darcy released her and ran his fingers over her stockinged legs with a featherlight touch until he reached her garters. Elizabeth arched back her neck, enjoying the sensation of his hands as they caressed her. He unfastened her garters and eased her silk stockings from her legs before continuing his exploration, onward to her hips and then to her derrière, which he massaged and kneaded as she rocked herself against him. Her breathing increased with each movement, and she felt deeply satisfied when she heard her husband’s gasp of pleasure.
Darcy’s hands slid upward along her back to the many intricate fastenings of her gown. Elizabeth leaned forward and claimed his mouth with hers, their tongues performing an intimate dance. Many, many minutes passed before he finally managed to undo the very last button, tugged gently at the delicate material, and freed his wife’s shoulders from the confines of her gown. His mouth descended to her newly exposed skin while his hands moved onward to release her breasts, and further still, until Elizabeth’s dress pooled around her hips. She helped him with her corset, chemise, and petticoats, and soon, Darcy beheld her in all her splendor as she sat astride him, her body glowing in the moonlight that filtered down upon them from the windows on either side of the bed.
He gasped at the sheer beauty of her, moved beyond words as he savored the sight of her curves and the passion in her eyes as she returned his intense gaze.
She leaned forward to work the knots of his cravat free, and then the buttons on his tailcoat, his waistcoat, and his shirt. Elizabeth eased the articles from her husband’s body, allowing her hands to linger upon his flesh, caressing the smooth plains that had been hidden from her sight. She swallowed and lowered her lips to his, teasing them apart with her tongue.
Darcy moaned against her as her hands blazed a path of fire from his shoulders all the way down his torso to his waist, stopping only when she reached the buttons on his trousers. Elizabeth took her time, releasing each one slowly, taking care to caress his straining erection with one hand as she worked each button free, making Darcy writhe beneath her. “Oh, God, Lizzy, yes,” he panted against her lips before recapturing her mouth in an ardent kiss.
Elizabeth’s heart quickened. It was the first time he had ever referred to her as simply “Lizzy,” and in such an intimate setting, it had an intense effect on her. She returned his passionate kisses, her desire for him flaring while both her hands worked to pull his trousers down his legs.
Darcy lifted her from his lap to remove them himself, as well as any other remaining articles of his clothing. When he returned to the bed and began to move toward her, she surprised him by pushing him back down so he could lie, once again, upon his back.
Starting with his neck and moving downward to his chest, Elizabeth began to cover his body with deep, sensual kisses. When she reached his abdomen, she felt him stiffen, though whether in anticipation or trepidation, she was not yet certain. She raised her head, hoping to gauge his wishes, and found him watching her intently, his eyes filled with desire, his breathing heavy and ragged. When she ran her tongue over her lips, she saw him swallow hard and close his eyes. When he opened them again, he silently formed her name.
With a seductive smile, Elizabeth lowered her head, keeping her gaze fixed upon his face. When he felt the softness of her cheek graze his arousal, his body shuddered, his eyes closed, and a moan escaped from his lips. His moans became louder as he felt the tip of her tongue touch him tentatively. When her warm mouth finally encircled him, taking him in while the velvet of her tongue caressed his length, he lost all coherent thought, abandoning himself completely to the overwhelming sensations she was exciting in every fiber of his being.
It was not long before Darcy’s moans became cries of ecstasy. Overwrought with desire, he slowly opened his eyes to see Elizabeth’s curls, with so many tiny pearl hairpins intertwined throughout, outlined against his pale flesh as she moved over him. Suddenly, it was too much, and he called out for her in his urgency.
Before he reached his peak, however, Darcy suddenly disengaged himself from her mouth and, pulling her toward him, captured her lips with his in
a fierce kiss that demanded her very essence. He ran his hands over her body, stroking her in all the ways he knew would bring her pleasure. His fingers soon found their way between her thighs, and as he began to massage her most sensitive flesh, she cried out for him. That cry and the exquisite wetness within her proved his undoing. Her body, as well as her voice, beckoned to him, and he could no longer resist the call of either.
Taking care not to be unduly rough with her, Darcy eased Elizabeth onto her back and covered her with his body. Between ragged breaths, he managed to pant, “Forgive me, my love, but I can wait no longer for you,” and in the next instant, buried himself deep within her, expelling a long, shuddering cry as he entered.
Elizabeth, too, could not help but sigh with pleasure and, as he began to move within her, wrapped her legs tightly around him, pulling him farther within her depths. She met his every thrust with raised hips, moving with him as though they were both one and the same. As the heat of their embrace began to build to an almost intolerable pitch, she could feel the delicious warmth coming. Her muscles tensed, and her back arched, and Darcy drove himself into her, ever deeper, ever faster, until they were both suddenly overtaken by earth-shattering waves of ecstasy.
So powerful was their joining, it took a long while before either was able to return from whence it was they had journeyed together. Fearing his weight was growing oppressive, Darcy rolled onto his side, taking Elizabeth with him without disengaging from her body. He held her securely and rested his forehead against hers, still struggling to regulate his rapid breathing. He kissed her deeply, entwining his fingers into her hair, disturbing the last few remaining hairpins that had chanced to survive their lovemaking. When he released her lips, he buried his face in her neck and let out a long, shuddering sigh as she stroked his cheek. “There is truly no woman like you, Elizabeth.”
Truth about Mr. Darcy Page 22