It was evident by the dark scowl he wore for most of the day that Darcy was by no means enjoying himself. Lord and Lady Matlock did their utmost to deflect Lady Catherine’s bitter expression and scathing remarks from their intended target—her new niece—but, as that great lady was not a woman used to being gainsaid, they were not entirely successful in their endeavors.
There was one moment, however, that brought Elizabeth unexpected comfort. Anne de Bourgh, who was forever under the constant observation and scrutiny of her imperious mother, had taken great pains to secure a moment alone with her cousin’s new wife, with the assistance of Georgiana and Lady Matlock. They found themselves in a small parlor abovestairs, and though a bit awkward at first, the meeting did not remain so for long as Anne, who had confessed to not being in the best of health, proclaimed her sincere delight upon having learned of Darcy’s marriage.
“My dear Mrs. Darcy,” she said in a demure voice, “I am thrilled for you both. I have long hoped Fitzwilliam would find a woman who would make him truly happy, as I have always known he and I have never shared my mother’s misdirected opinion that we could find felicity with each other. We are both of such a taciturn, unsocial nature and, therefore, in desperate need of marital companions who will bring us some liveliness.” She bowed her head then and said, with some emotion, “Do you think you could ever find it within your heart to forgive me for my mother’s unjust treatment of you, Mrs. Darcy? I have been greatly distressed since I first learnt of it and have been increasingly more so after witnessing her abominable behavior toward you today, as well.”
Taking pity upon her, Elizabeth touched the back of Miss de Bourgh’s hands, which were clasped tightly upon her lap. “Miss de Bourgh, I can hardly hold you accountable for your mother’s ill treatment of me. Please, think upon it no longer. I should dearly like for us to be friends.”
Miss de Bourgh raised her head and looked upon the new Mrs. Darcy with such an expression of appreciation and relief that Elizabeth had to smile. “Thank you. I should like that very much. I have had very little opportunity to form many friendships of my own choosing, and I believe your society would be a most enjoyable change of venue for me.”
The two ladies, unfortunately, were to have only a few more minutes of each other’s company before they were interrupted by Georgiana, who informed them that Lady Catherine was beginning to grow anxious over Anne’s whereabouts. They parted, however, with the plan of corresponding with each other through Lady Matlock, so as not to invoke the wrath of Lady Catherine. Elizabeth remained abovestairs after Georgiana had led Anne back to her mother. She was relieved to have found Miss de Bourgh to be the complete opposite of Lady Catherine. She smiled as she recalled the sincerity and kindness of her address and the happiness she had shown when Elizabeth had offered her friendship.
There was a knock upon the door then, and without waiting for a reply, Lady Matlock stepped into the room with a warm smile. “So, my dear, I understand you and Anne are to become good friends?”
Elizabeth returned her smile and nodded. “Yes. I must confess I am relieved to find her extremely amiable and kind. I was happy to make her acquaintance. Though I never doubted Fitzwilliam’s assurances his cousin would not be offended by his choosing me, I could not help but worry over meeting Miss de Bourgh, particularly after her mother had made such a strong impression upon me!”
Lady Matlock approached her. “You astound me, Elizabeth, with your ability to laugh over such shocking recollections. However do you manage it?”
Elizabeth shrugged and said, “I cannot say, but I have always found it is far better to laugh than to cry in some situations—one of the rare bits of knowledge I gleaned from my mother! Very often she would say or do something mortally embarrassing, which would bring a blush to my face; however, rather than crying over it, I would simply think instead of something to make myself laugh. I daresay the same philosophy shall help me greatly when moving in London society. I hear the ladies of the ton can be extremely formidable!”
Lady Matlock laughed. “Yes, to be sure they can. You do realize, I hope, that Henry and I will always value and appreciate you, Elizabeth. You have brought such joy to Fitzwilliam. He has known so much sorrow and loneliness since the passing of his dear parents that we cannot help but love you, as well. Whether Catherine comes to accept you or not, we shall strive to protect you from her cruelty.”
Lady Matlock directed her to a small sofa across the room, and Elizabeth said, “I can almost feel sorry for her. She must have suffered cruelly at one time in order to have so very few scruples about making others feel wretched.”
They sat for several minutes until Lady Matlock shook her head and said, “You are an insightful young woman, Elizabeth.” She then gave her a meaningful look and reached for her hands. “I am going to share something with you, something I believe may better help you to understand my sister-in-law. You see, Catherine has suffered a disappointment in her past, and I am afraid it has had a lasting effect on her. Did you know she is the elder sister of Fitzwilliam’s mother, Anne?”
“Yes, I have been given to understand that. She is Lord Matlock’s elder sister, is she not?”
Lady Matlock nodded. “What you will not know, for I doubt very much even my nephew is aware of this, is when Catherine and Anne were hardly more than girls, they were introduced to Sir Lewis de Bourgh, who was considerably older than they. Though he found both sisters to be beautiful, he immediately became enchanted by Anne’s wit and vivacity. He wished to marry her, but Anne did not return his regard. Sir Lewis then applied to her father, but he would not hear of it, as Anne was his particular favorite, not to mention still quite young—especially for a man nearly fifteen years her senior. Sir Lewis vowed to wait for her until she was of a more acceptable age to receive his suit, but was devastated when she became engaged not two years later to George Darcy, who was much younger and utterly devoted to Anne in much the same way her son is devoted to you, my dear. Catherine, also, was discontented with the match, as it was long suspected she was in love with George. After Anne’s marriage, Sir Lewis settled on Catherine instead, though Henry has often wondered whether she accepted him more for his title and connections than for the man himself.
“It was not a happy union, made even less so by the undisguised bliss Anne and George had found together and refused to hide from society. It was obvious Sir Lewis still desired her, though he was no longer quite so open about it, at least not unless he had been drinking. When Fitzwilliam was born, Sir Lewis felt it as a personal blow. Not long afterward, Catherine gave birth to a little girl, and though she protested vehemently, her husband insisted on naming her after Catherine’s sister. It made Catherine bitter, a bitterness that rules over her to this very day.”
Elizabeth raised her hand to her lips, and Lady Matlock continued, “Sir Lewis doted on his daughter as he surely would have doted on her namesake. He had never doted on his wife, and Catherine continued to grow increasingly angry over his inattention whenever they were in company. In the meantime, Anne Darcy had suffered several failed pregnancies, which left her vulnerable to bouts of illness. Finally, when Georgiana was born, Anne’s body was simply too weak to continue to sustain her life. When word of her failing health reached Rosings, Sir Lewis was beside himself and determined to go to her, despite the evident jealousy and displeasure of his wife, who flatly refused to visit her sister. They argued, and he left in the middle of the night for Pemberley. He had not ridden five miles beyond Rosings when he was thrown from his horse. His injuries were fatal.”
“How awful!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Poor Miss de Bourgh, to be left solely to the care of such a resentful parent, and Lady Catherine, to be left alone with a daughter who would always remind her of her husband’s steadfast devotion to another woman. Though I cannot help but feel a certain sympathy for Sir Lewis de Bourgh for falling hopelessly in love with a woman who could not return his regard, I can hardly agree with his decision to marry poor Lady Catherine
in her stead. Of what could he have been thinking, I wonder?”
Lady Matlock smiled. “I hardly know, but I see you have already begun to take pity upon Catherine.”
Elizabeth was thoughtful for many moments. “It is not so easy to forgive her for saying such hurtful things aimed purposefully to wound, but I do pity her. How can I not when I am married to such an extraordinary man of whose regard I have daily proof? It makes me wonder, though, why Lady Catherine would ever wish to promote a union between her daughter and the son of her sister.”
“I believe it would have given her a certain perverse satisfaction to see her sister’s beloved son, whom I imagine she cannot help but favor, as he is so very much like his excellent father, bound to her own daughter. I believe she viewed the idea of a union between them as a sort of victory for herself, in the sense that she would have gained access to a portion of what she felt would have rightfully been hers had George Darcy only returned her regard: Pemberley.” Lady Matlock hesitated a moment. “I can only hope she does not carry her displeasure regarding your marriage beyond our family circle. I would hate to see her abuse you, Elizabeth, and make it difficult to establish yourself in society.”
Elizabeth frowned. “I have no doubt she will abuse me to all Fitzwilliam’s relations, but would she truly be so unscrupulous, do you think, to relate her malicious rumors to those outside of her family circle?”
Lady Matlock smiled sadly. “For your sake, and for Anne’s, I would like to think Catherine above such machinations; however, when one is bitter and used to behaving bitterly, I cannot so easily discount such unfeeling behavior.”
They were joined shortly thereafter by Darcy. “Lady Matlock, you have been keeping my wife to yourself this last hour. It is most ungenerous of you.”
Both ladies smiled and made to stand, but just as Elizabeth was about to reach him, she felt light-headed. She grabbed a chair to steady herself, but not before she was observed by Darcy, who was at her side immediately. Putting his arms about her, he asked, “Elizabeth, dearest, you are unwell?” Lady Matlock observed her with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
“No. I believe I am fine now. I felt a little dizzy a moment ago, but it has passed. Perhaps I am tired, Fitzwilliam. We were out very late last night, and I did not get much sleep.”
“Yes, perhaps, my dear.” It was Lady Matlock who spoke. “Why do you not lie down for a while? Fitzwilliam, you can take her to the blue room. I believe there is a fire in the grate. I will send a pot of tea, which I have found to be particularly soothing when I have experienced similar symptoms.”
“Thank you, Aunt, but, if you do not mind, I believe I would prefer to return home now.”
Lady Matlock smiled kindly. “Of course, my dear. Go home and rest yourself in the comfort of your own rooms, and perhaps, we might meet later this week for tea.”
Elizabeth offered her a warm smile. “I would like that very much. I truly enjoy your company. In the few short weeks I have known you, you have made me feel very welcome. I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me.”
“You are very welcome.” She embraced her new niece then and, with a meaningful look, said, “Take particularly good care of yourself, Elizabeth, and should you need anything, anything at all, I sincerely hope you will not hesitate to approach me.”
Darcy thanked his aunt and, still very much concerned over his wife’s spell of dizziness, closely attended her until they reached the privacy of their carriage, where he could finally take her into his arms and hold her.
Elizabeth surrendered herself quite willingly to the solicitous care of her husband, ever thankful for his unparalleled devotion.
Chapter 22
The Darcys remained quietly at home until the following Saturday, when Elizabeth’s family was to leave London. They met for an elegant breakfast at the home of Lord and Lady Matlock—the Bennets, the Gardiners, the Darcys, and Bingley. As a special treat for their two eldest nieces, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner invited Jane to extend her stay in Town and to reside with them in Gracechurch Street, ensuring she would meet often with her beloved Bingley without the well-intentioned interference they had been receiving daily from Mrs. Bennet. This was met with great pleasure by everyone, especially Bingley, who felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to the Gardiners, both for their invitation and their guarantee of constant admittance to their home.
The following Monday saw Lady Matlock, Mrs. Gardiner, Jane, and Georgiana calling on Elizabeth. Unfortunately, Darcy happened to be in the middle of attempting to persuade his wife to return with him to their room for an amorous interlude when the ladies were announced. To his further annoyance, Elizabeth invited them all to stay for luncheon, and afterward, she and Georgiana took great delight in entertaining everyone with lively duets. Their entire visit, which spanned from late morning until nearly tea time, drove Darcy practically mad.
By the time the ladies finally left, Elizabeth could hardly hold her laughter in check.
Darcy was far from sharing her amusement. “Madam, if I did not know better, I would believe you to have arranged the events of this day solely to vex me.”
“Really, Fitzwilliam”—she smiled—“you do have a remarkable imagination!”
Darcy sat upon the couch and sulked.
“You should have seen the expression on your face when I invited your aunt to stay to luncheon,” she said with a giggle. “You looked positively wretched, my dear.”
“Elizabeth, it is hardly a laughing matter. A man could come to great harm by repressing his ardent desire for his wife.”
“Oh! Is that so?” she asked with a slightly raised brow, failing miserably at assuming a more serious countenance.
“Well,” Darcy mumbled with no small degree of ill humor, “it certainly felt that way today.”
Elizabeth smiled seductively and positioned herself on his lap, her fingers exploring his shoulders, snaking their way around his neck and toying with his impeccably tied cravat. “My poor, poor husband. How selfish and unfeeling a wife I have been to you. While I have passed a delightful afternoon in the company of our most excellent relations, you have sacrificed your physical well-being for my pleasure. How shall I ever make it up to you, Mr. Darcy?”
Her impertinence could not but please him. Indeed, he had always reveled in her teasing. “I hardly know, Mrs. Darcy,” he pouted, “but I daresay it will require a very significant amount of time to accomplish.”
“Well, then, my dear,” she said, “I do believe we should begin immediately, if we are to be on time for supper.”
To Darcy, who had been more than willing to oblige her at any given moment throughout the duration of the afternoon, this was all the invitation he required, and he entwined his fingers somewhat roughly in Elizabeth’s hair, disturbing the many jeweled hairpins that held it securely in place, scattering them upon the couch and on the carpet. His mouth met hers in a desperate kiss that revealed every ounce of his pent-up desire. Elizabeth felt his hands upon her body—touching, stroking, kneading, demanding—claiming every inch of her as his own. It seemed as if he could not get enough of her, and it thrilled her to see the potent hunger in his eyes when he finally released her lips to draw a deep, staggering breath.
In one smooth motion, Darcy was on his feet and striding toward the door, which he promptly closed and locked before returning to gather her in his arms. They were in the music room, and to Elizabeth’s surprise, instead of reclining with her upon the couch or the carpet, he carried her to the pianoforte, where he seated her, not upon the bench, but upon the instrument itself. He raised her skirts and pulled her forward to sit upon the edge, spreading wide her thighs. His breathing was rapid. Without ceremony, he wrapped one arm about her hips as he pushed two fingers into her depths and then withdrew them, brushing over her folds as he did so. Elizabeth shuddered as he raised the fingers to his lips and inserted them into his mouth, his eyes holding hers with a quiet ferocity she had not yet seen. When he spoke, his voice was rough
, hoarse with emotion, raw with his need. “Lie back now, Elizabeth. I wish to taste more of you.” She gasped at his boldness but readily complied when she felt pleasure wash over her as he bathed her most sensitive flesh repeatedly with his tongue. She was soon crying out for him as the tension coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, she arched her back, and her release was upon her.
Though satisfied by his wife’s powerful reaction to such attention, Darcy was hardly sated, and without further warning, he released his straining arousal from his breeches and was upon her, sliding her farther back upon the instrument as he covered her body completely with his. He entered her with one deep, powerful thrust that tore a cry of pleasure from each of them.
His movements were frenzied, passionate, and it did not take long before he was driving Elizabeth, once more, to the brink of ultimate release. She wrapped her legs about his hips and met him stroke for stroke, raising her hips to meet him with a determination that matched his.
It was more than he could bear. “Lizzy, oh God,” he moaned with urgency before he filled her with a fiery explosion of such intensity it wracked his body for many long moments.
Elizabeth reached her pleasure just seconds later, gasping his name.
Later that night, as she lay in her husband’s arms in the privacy of their rooms, Elizabeth could not but think upon their passionate escapade in the music room late that afternoon. She could not say what had shocked her more—having her husband make love to her in such a public room of the house, and in broad daylight no less, or her having allowed it in the first place. She found it thrilling, however, beyond a doubt, and as she drifted off to sleep, she found herself wondering whether the heavy desk in the library or perhaps the sturdy sideboard in the breakfast parlor might not prove to be equally enjoyable as the pianoforte.
Truth about Mr. Darcy Page 24