by Lily Lord
As soon as she had the thought, her husband must have reached the same conclusion. Before she could speak it out loud, he lifted her up into his arms, strode to the connecting door, and pushed it open.
“Fitzwilliam, I…”
He deposited her with care onto the bed. “Whatever you want, Lizzy. I will not press the issue if you feel unwell.”
With this response, she felt all her love and passion come surging in. She gazed into his eyes, and saw both desire and devotion there.
“I want. Yes,” She said.
Very quickly, they had both disrobed and were lying together flesh to flesh. Darcy’s hands were warm as they caressed and kneaded her body as though they had never touched her before. When his hand skimmed over the peak of her breast, with its nipple firm and dark, she moaned. And when his fingers touched her in that sensitive delta between her legs, she surrendered to him completely.
Any feelings of fatigue had vanished. Elizabeth ran her own hands along the springy curls on her husband’s chest and down to his eagerly erect manhood. Shyly, she touched him there, realizing that even after nearly two months as man and wife, she was still very unfamiliar with the male member.
After she removed her hand, Darcy took hers in his and brought her back to his rigid organ. Keeping her eyes averted from his, Elizabeth gave in to her curiosity. Though they had made love nearly every day since the first week of their marriage, she had rarely been in a position to examine her husband in this way. Usually, it was dark, and he was eager. But now, with light coming in the window, he seemed to be inviting her to slow down and take the opportunity to look. And Elizabeth was never one to forgo an opportunity for further education.
She shimmied down the bed until she was eye to eye with his masculine protuberance. It was fascinating. The coloration, the veins, and most of all the response of his organ to her attentions. She ran her fingers over the length of it, luxuriating in the hard and soft aspects of this curious organ. As she stroked it, she heard Darcy moan, and watched as his appendage rose in response to her cautious ministrations.
At the end of it, a bead of moisture appeared. She knew, of course, that this was the first bit of liquid that could carry a man’s seed into a woman’s womb. A miracle, right there, that such irresistible desire should be coupled with the procreation of the next generation. A divine design of providence.
Elizabeth ran her finger around the thicker head at the top of his member. Again, she heard Darcy moan and watched as his body responded. Feeling daring, she took the tip of her tongue and ran it from the bottom to the top. The response from its owner was a groan of pleasure.
“Lizzy,” he said, his voice husky. “What you do to me, Mrs. Darcy.”
She gave a quiet laugh. “Are you impatient, sir?”
“Impatient cannot possibly describe it. Passionate. Hungry. Ravenous.” She could hear the yearning in his voice but also the humor. “Keep going, Lizzy. Do not think of stopping.”
She ran her hand over the taut muscles in his abdomen and felt them quiver under her touch. She put her mouth on his thick rod and took the uppermost portion in, gently, afraid that she might hurt him. Amazing to think that this tough and tender part of the body was the organ that drove men to attempt many of their daring deeds, the better to attract the fair sex.
Elizabeth wrapped her hand around the base of his member and slid her bold tongue around the tip, swirling around it once, then twice. She could feel Darcy’s thighs quivering.
“Now, Lizzy,” he said. “I cannot wait any longer.”
Quickly, she positioned herself over him and slid down slowly onto his rampant rod. The feeling of fullness, of surrounding him and having him inside her, had become very familiar. It no longer hurt, as it had the first several times they had tried. Now the sensation felt simply delicious.
All thoughts of her earlier infirmity had fled. Elizabeth’s pulse pounded as she reveled in the sensations of connecting with her beloved husband in this manner. She gazed down at him and saw, mixed with his unbridled lust, the warm love that he felt for her. His hands reached up and caressed her rosy-tipped orbs. With his fingers gently tweaking their peaks, she felt herself glow with both affection and desire.
Fresh springs of moisture between her legs had been unleashed, smoothing the slippery path within. Elizabeth heard her voice moaning softly as she arched her back and sought the most pleasurable connection between her husband’s organ and her own person. Their coupling would soon come to its fruition, but she did her best to prolong the exquisite delight before the finish.
Darcy reached his hands around her shoulders and gently pulled her down so that every portion of her was flesh-to-flesh with him. “I want to feel all of you,” he said, his voice low and thick. “All of you at once, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth was wrapped in a blanket of warmth and joy. As the heat of their passion sang throughout her body, she reached a point of full delight. Her skin touching her beloved’s skin. Her breasts tingling with stimulation. Her mouth warm on Darcy’s lips and his tongue slipping within. And that secret chasm between her thighs aglow with liquid honey and velvet strokes.
One more firm upward lift by Mr. Darcy and she was released into the air, tumbling with joy, aware of nothing but that exquisite pinprick of sensation now exploding into pinwheels throughout her body. Thrumming release spread throughout her, every blood vessel responsive, her womb seeming to rebound with the rhythm of her pulsations.
Elizabeth raised her head just in time to watch her beloved Fitzwilliam’s mouth form an “O” as a deep groan emanated from his throat and he clutched her tightly, fully in the grip of his own spasms. As she felt his member delivering its emissions into her in one measure after another, she was able to observe the blissful expression on Darcy’s face.
Finally, Darcy’s paroxysms abated, his eyes found hers, and he smiled like a man fully sated.
“Oh, Lizzy,” he said. “Such joy.”
For a moment, Elizabeth watched as his eyes glistened, and thought she could see a tear forming. Then he blinked, and it was gone. Darcy wrapped his arms around her gently and kissed her softly on her lips.
Elizabeth nestled down onto his broad shoulder, relaxing in the quiet after the passion. She sighed in delight.
Despite her euphoric state, she became aware of a chilly spot underneath her. Clearly, the bed was the worse for their connubial activities. Her sheets would need to be changed for the second time today, she reflected, realizing just how much the servants must observe about employers with whom they had such intimate dealings. She resolved not to dwell on that uncomfortable aspect of their situation.
Suddenly, Elizabeth looked at the darkness outside her window. With a groan, she realized how late it must be.
Mr. Darcy had closed his eyes and was slipping into sleep. This was something Elizabeth had now become accustomed to. There seemed to be nothing more useful as a sleeping potion than marital relations for the masculine sex. She moved slowly and carefully to extricate herself from her husband’s arms without disturbing him. Nevertheless, he stirred and turned to her.
“Are you leaving me, Lizzy, my love?”
“I fear that I must, Mr. Darcy. I am very surprised that we haven’t received word already that the Gardiners have arrived.”
A low muttering was all that she received in response. Elizabeth moved as quickly as she could across her bedchamber to don a robe. As she stepped into the adjoining dressing room and closed the door behind her, she realized that it would be all too obvious to Fiona what had transpired. But it wasn’t the first time, and it was certainly nothing that she would have time to worry about now.
Dismissing any feelings of selfconsciousness, Elizabeth summoned Fiona and refreshed herself liberally at the basin before the girl arrived. As soon as the young maid got there, she hurried to get into a fresh gown and have her coiffure repaired. Fiona was making clucking noises about the state of her hair, but there was nothing to be done except redo it.
“I did want to wear the rose gown to meet my Aunt and Uncle, but as it looks entirely crushed now, I will wear the ivory. Please make haste, Fiona, and help me put it on.”
Fiona simply nodded and acquiesced, and Elizabeth concluded that her admonitions about sharing opinions must have made an impression on the girl.
“I suppose you would have told me if the Gardiners had arrived already?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh yes ma’am. No ma’am, they have not come yet. But Cook is squawking about how late everything is for the Christmas Eve dinner.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Fiona turned pink and bobbed her usual curtsy. “Forgive me, Mrs. Darcy, that was fresh.” She stepped back to look at Elizabeth’s dress. “It is a beautiful gown, ma’am.” Once again, she looked abashed. “And of course it is. A woman like you, with all the beautiful gowns you have, you don’t need the opinion of the likes of me.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Fiona, it is perfectly all right to give me a compliment. Worry not. You will learn in due time, I am sure, the balance between saying too much and saying too little.”
At that, Fiona brightened up. “And I was very sharp, was I not, to say nothing about you and Mr. Darcy in your bedchamber at this time of…” She trailed off, looking miserable.
Elizabeth raised her eyes heavenward. “That is quite enough, Fiona.” She shook her head in disapproval. But she smiled at the girl after she did so. “Practice responding rather than initiating conversation. It will stand you in good stead.”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy,” a visibly chastened Fiona responded, her eyes wide.
Moving down the hallway toward the grand staircase in front, Elizabeth realized that her husband was probably still sound asleep in her bed. No doubt he could fend for himself. As she reached the top of the stairs, it was clear that she had arrived just in time. The servants were assembling in the grand foyer, and began to look up in her direction. The Gardiners’ carriage must have been spotted arriving at the top of the road wound its way down to Pemberley.
Reminding herself to behave as though she had just spent a leisurely afternoon resting in her bedroom, Elizabeth came down the stairs and nodded to all of those who had collected by the front doors. When the head Butler saw her, he looked slightly puzzled, likely because of the fact that she was not accompanied by Mr. Darcy.
Fiona had followed her down the stairs, and was ready to hand her a warm shawl and bonnet before she stepped out. As Elizabeth looked back in her direction, she spotted Darcy, looking every inch the lord of the manor, making his way with a brisk step down the stairs. He caught up with her just as the large double doors were opened for them, and took her arm to escort her outside.
It was just twilight, and the view was glorious. A pink and purple sunset filled the sky, and the increasing shadows were lightened by the multiple torches placed outside to welcome the Gardiners. Just as Darcy and Elizabeth emerged, a hired carriage could be seen coming toward the entrance. In a moment it was there, the driver leaping down from his position on the box, and groomsmen stepping forward to handle the horses.
Darcy opened the door to the carriage with a flourish, and Elizabeth saw her Aunt Gardiner’s beaming face. As Fitzwilliam handed her down from the carriage, Elizabeth approached and embraced her aunt. When they were close enough to whisper, Mrs. Gardiner spoke to her in a voice full of maternal affection.
“My darling Lizzy, how wonderful to see you. You look every bit the happy young wife. And just imagine… the last time we were both here together, Pemberley House was a grand estate owned by a young man whom I thought you knew only slightly… and cared for even less. Now here you are the mistress of this beautiful property and the contented Mrs. of the famed Mr. Darcy.”
As Elizabeth and her aunt separated, the happy young wife in question had to let her eyes speak her agreement with all that Mrs. Gardiner had said. The two women beamed at each other in an equally shared moment of joy.
After all parties had expressed a hearty greeting, they made their way out of the cool December air and into the bright warmth of Pemberley. The rest of the evening was spent in a pleasant swirl of happy reminiscences and congenial conversation over the sumptuous Christmas Eve dinner. Elizabeth was more than relieved to observe that Georgiana had apparently put aside any resentment over her brother’s reaction to her interest in the young Viscount.
To Elizabeth’s surprise, it was Mrs. Gardiner who brought up that awkward subject when the ladies were relaxing after dinner apart from the gentlemen. She turned to Georgiana, whom she had met previously, and asked her how her time in London had been.
“Oh!” Georgiana colored prettily at the question. “I had a lovely time.”
Mrs. Gardiner put her hand conspiratorially on the young lady’s arm. “Certainly I am far from the center of exciting society doings in London, but even an old married woman such as I…”
“You do yourself little justice in describing yourself as such,” Elizabeth interjected.
Mrs. Gardiner laughed. “But it is true! I am not in the same circle as our young friend here. However, the gossip that is going around includes mention of a very handsome young man who is the eldest son of the Earl of W___. I was merely going to inquire as to whether Miss Darcy had met him. Perhaps it is too impertinent a question for a woman who is only recently related to her by marriage.” This entire speech was accompanied by a merry glance toward Elizabeth and a beaming countenance that indicated benign interest in the goings-on of the younger set.
Georgiana’s beautiful eyes opened wide. “I do indeed know of the young man you named…” She began hesitantly.
“And is he as dashing as he is purported to be? I hear that he was the most eligible young bachelor of the season.” Mrs. Gardiner’s eyes were twinkling.
For a moment, Elizabeth wondered whether her aunt bringing up the young man’s name could be a mere coincidence, or if she had some secret knowledge of Georgiana’s interest in the Viscount. But knowing her aunt as she did, Elizabeth was certain that she would not tease sweet Georgiana in this way if she were aware of her involvement with him.
Elizabeth put her own hand in turn on her aunt’s arm. She reasoned to herself that it would be wise to steer the conversation away from this potentially painful topic. Fortunately, there were no servants in the room at the moment, and thus they had not been overheard. Yet.
Elizabeth began, “I am sure that Georgiana was in a position to meet all of the young men who were in London at the beginning of this season…”
But before she could finish her sentence, Georgiana took the bit in her mouth and ran with it. “The Earl of W___’s son… John Stanley… is the finest gentleman that I have ever met. Certainly he is very popular in London this season. He is unquestionably handsome and charming and as eligible as any young woman could dream of in a potential husband. But there is something in him that is more than that. I think that he would be just as wonderful had he no title at all. And if his hair were not golden and his eyes were not as blue as the ocean…” Her face took on a dreamy look, and it was clear that she was envisioning a person and place far from Pemberley.
Mrs. Gardiner turned to look at Elizabeth in astonishment. Her gaze indicated that Georgiana’s situation was very obvious to her. And how could it not be? Georgiana’s love for the Viscount was emblazoned on her features and in her sweet, vulnerable look.
Elizabeth wondered what to say at this juncture. She trusted her aunt’s ability to keep a confidence completely, and yet she founded it alarming that Georgiana would speak so freely about her powerful affection for the young man. Others who heard that kind of description might not be as trustworthy.
All at once, Elizabeth’s attention was focused inward. She felt as though she might faint. Taking a step toward the closest chair, and reaching out with her arm, she managed to slide quickly to a seated position.
The two other women, standing by the fireplace, looked toward her in alarm.
“I’m… I’ve been a bit dizzy
…”
Mrs. Gardiner stepped over to her instantly. “Lizzy. Are you unwell? Should I get someone?”
Georgiana crowded and on the other side, crouching down beside her and looking up with grave concern. “Lizzy, what is it? Willy mentioned that he thought you needed to see a doctor. We should send for one immediately. You have been doing too much… with all of us coming for the holiday at the same time.”
Mrs. Gardiner stepped across the room and opened the door, calling to a young girl who was passing nearby. “Get Mr. Darcy and have someone call for a doctor.”
Georgiana, still beside Elizabeth, held her hand. “What can we get you? Water? Something hot? Spirits?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I am quite fine now. Thank you. The only injury is to my pride. I am entirely embarrassed at having caused a stir.” She looked over at Mrs. Gardiner, who had returned to her side. “Please don’t tell me you have called the doctor.”
“Indeed I have, Lizzy. Georgiana says that you have been feeling unwell for the last few days. You should speak to a doctor.” She turned at the sound of someone coming closer to the door. Lowering her own voice, she leaned down toward Elizabeth. “In all likelihood, my dear, you are pregnant.”
Georgiana opened her mouth with a gasp and then covered it with her hands, gazing at Elizabeth in surprise and delight.
As for herself, Elizabeth felt a grand confusion of emotions. Could it be? Certainly, it could be. All conditions were appropriate for a pregnancy to commence. But it seemed such a surprise. A wonderful, frightening, possible surprise.
Just as the door opened, and Elizabeth saw her husband’s worried face appear, Mrs. Gardiner leaned down to whisper once more.
“The doctor will be able to speak to you about it, Lizzy. But if you have been feeling a little bit off balance, and somewhat queasy, that happy condition seems the likely culprit. Have you been missing your monthly courses?”
Once again, Elizabeth felt a strange befuddlement. So much had been new about her life since marrying Mr. Darcy and arriving at Pemberley House that she had not been attuned to her own regular rhythms. Certainly, commencing marital relations had thrown her body into a strange new state. Everything felt new and different and she felt, in a way, more alive than she ever had. Could this herald the beginning of another new life?