Rose Cottage

by A K Madison

  “Of course not. It was astonishing and lovely and utterly delightful, and I hope you kiss me that way often. Where did you learn to do it?”

  “Oh, I had the finest teacher-one Fitzwilliam Darcy. This is the first opportunity I have had to practice without fear of chaperones, or of being caught, or of other things. So, I did well?”

  “I think I could easily become accustomed to being kissed that way by my wife.” His expression became more serious. “How are you feeling?”

  “I am experiencing what Mama would call ‘tremblings and flutterings.’ It is a sort of nervous anticipation, but a happy anticipation, as one might feel when embarking on a journey. But at the same time, I feel as if I have crossed the Rubicon. There is no going back now, Mr. Darcy. Not that I would wish to. And you. How are you feeling?”

  “I suppose I am also having tremblings and flutterings. But mine are happy. Our life is spread out before us like a road we shall travel together. We are companions and partners. True partners. I anticipate the journey with pleasure.” He took her hand, kissed the pulse at her wrist, and said, “Gloves, Mrs. Darcy? Surely we can hold hands without gloves.”

  They busied themselves for a moment with removing their gloves, and when the unwanted articles had been safely pocketed, Elizabeth held up her hand and touched his, palm to palm. “I remember feeling your ungloved hand when we were courting and how it delighted me. I wanted a kiss, and the touch of your hand made me feel as if we were kissing, but with our hands.”

  Darcy kissed her soundly, taking his time, waiting with anticipation for the soft sounds she would make that signaled her pleasure. This time he was doubly rewarded, not only by the sound of her voice but by the movements of her body as she sat on his lap. He laughed again, softly, putting his lips close to her ear. “Mrs. Darcy, if you keep that up, I will not be able to wait until this evening. I promise you we will be far, far more comfortable in our wide bed. More private, too.”

  “Our bed, Mr. Darcy? I thought we each had one. The bedchamber you showed me was very feminine.”

  “We do each have one, and there are more beds in that house than I have ever bothered to count. But you, Mrs. Darcy, will be a lovely bedfellow, and I am the fortunate man who gets to go to bed with you. It is my hope that we will sleep together as often as possible, even if we are just sleeping.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him and kissed his nose, which elicited a smile. She began to play with his hair, twining the curls around her finger as she murmured, “I love your hair. It has always been a source of temptation to me, you know. And I remember the first time I was brave enough to touch it.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “Mmm. I remember that, too. It gave me such joy. I remember telling myself that Elizabeth Bennet was toying with my hair. You may do so at any time the impulse seizes you, Mrs. Darcy.” I am glad it pleases you.”

  “Oh, there are many things about you that I find pleasing, Mr. Darcy. I shall be happy to enumerate them later.”

  “You disappoint me, madam. My head is not yet sufficiently swelled.”

  Elizabeth blushed and leaned her forehead against his. “Most of them are not suitable for discussion among mixed company, Mr. Darcy. We shall have to wait.”

  Darcy threw back his head and laughed heartily. “If we are mixed company now, my Lizzy, what will be different later?” He gave her a smacking kiss on the lips.

  “I suppose that later we shall be more alone.”

  Elizabeth tried to smother a yawn. Seeing this, Darcy pulled her closer, and she was soon fast asleep—as was he. Both slept so soundly that they were unaware of their approach to London until Darcy awoke with a start, peered out of the window, and then woke Elizabeth, saying, “We are in London. We are perhaps fifteen minutes from home. They occupied themselves with hair, hat, and bonnet, each checking the other’s appearance as had become their habit.

  The carriage was soon pulling up before Darcy House, and Darcy jumped down to assist his bride. The servants were ranged smartly across the front of the house according to rank. As the newly-married couple made their way down the line. Elizabeth smiled at each person with a gracious inclination of her head, remembering to repeat the person’s name back in the hope that she would be able to recall it later.

  They walked up the front steps, finding that the doors were standing wide open. Darcy swept his bride into his arms and carried her across the threshold, much to the delight of the applauding servants. After the butler and housekeeper excused themselves, Elizabeth and Darcy were alone and were instantly in each other’s arms. “Welcome home, Elizabeth,” Darcy murmured. “I have wished and hoped to say those words for so long a time I can scarcely believe this is not a dream.”

  “Oh, I am very real, and I am here with you where I belong.

  ✽✽✽

  “They have left us enough food to withstand a seven-day siege.”

  Darcy, attired in a banyan of some plain brown material, stood surveying a table laid out in his bedchamber. He was the handsomest person Elizabeth had ever seen. The sight of him quite took her breath away, but she managed to smile and walk across to him. Her trepidation and shyness vanished as she reminded herself that this was her very own Fitzwilliam.

  He had poured a glass of wine for her. “I was just thinking of you, Mrs. Darcy, and here you are. And you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”

  “I was just thinking the same of you.”

  Elizabeth was entranced by the sight of his neck and the small area of his chest exposed at the collar of his banyan. The sprinkling of dark hair made her want to touch him there. She was equally enchanted by the occasional glimpses of his forearms revealed by the loose sleeves of the garment.

  They continued to talk of this and that as they sipped their wine and sampled some of the food. Though their conversation was easy, there was a decided undercurrent of anticipation between them, an unspoken awareness of what was to come. They rose from the table and moved without speaking to the chairs drawn up before the fire. Darcy placed their wineglasses on a table and seated himself, pulling her down into his lap. “I cannot wait another instant to hold you, Lizzy. Now, kiss me the way you kissed me in the carriage this afternoon.”

  Her kiss, gentle and exploratory at first, grew suddenly more intense when her teeth lightly grazed his lower lip. When at almost the same time, she threw her arms about his waist to pull him closer, Darcy’s mouth grew rougher, more demanding. Elizabeth’s response was more than sufficient to encourage him, and when his hand found a breast through the thin fabric of her dressing-gown, she gave a little, trilling moan and pressed against his hand with her own, to keep it there. His hand strayed to the ribbon that held the high-waisted garment closed at the front. “May I remove this?” His eyes never left her face.

  Elizabeth nodded, watching his face as his fingers gently untied the knot that held the robe together. She felt his hands on her bare shoulders as he eased it off. She heard his sharp intake of breath when he caught sight of her form through the diaphanous silk of her nightdress. He said nothing for a long moment, but he replaced his hands on her shoulders, caressing the soft skin with a light touch that made her shiver with delight. “You are beautiful, Mrs. Darcy. I intend to keep telling you that.”

  Elizabeth blushed and looked down before finding his eyes again. He pulled her close, and she relaxed as she heard the beating of his heart. The gentle kiss that followed seemed to cast away all the doubt and sorrow of the past year. The angry parting at Hunsford, the terrible loss of her father and her home, the fear and anxiety, and the greed and violence of others that had cast her into near despair—all of these coalesced to a single point and vanished within the warm, solid reality of her husband’s arms. He took her face in his hands and kissed her more deeply, urgently, as though laying claim to her, and at her eager response he whispered, “You are mine, and I will never let you go.”

  The loose sleeves of his banyan had fallen back so that his arms were exposed. Int
rigued, she drew a gentle finger up his arm from wrist to elbow. She gave him a sidelong glance, showing just a hint of wickedness in her smile, and began a path of soft kisses down his arm, stopping to taste the pulse at his wrist. She placed a final kiss on his palm and closed his fist around it.

  “Lizzy!” he cried with a shaky laugh.

  “I have wanted to do that for a very, very long time,” she said, stepping back into the circle of his arms. “I saw you, you know, with your sleeves rolled up.”

  “I am shocked! How ungentlemanlike of me. When was that?”

  “You were working on the cottage, climbing up and down a ladder to oversee the work of the men on the roof. You did not see me, but I saw you.” She ran her finger up his arm again. “I had no idea I could be so drawn to your forearms. I have thought of them for weeks. I have wanted to touch them, to touch your skin.” She hung her head and blushed again until he reached under her chin to tilt it up for a kiss.

  “I am honored that you like my arms, and I hope the rest of me can give equal satisfaction.”

  They stood and caught hands, walking together across his chamber to the curtained bed, and Darcy lifted her to sit upon it. Standing beside her, Darcy gazed down at her face. His own face displayed that expression she had mistaken for so long for disapproval. He drew a deep, shuddering breath, placed his hands on her shoulders where her nightgown rested and said, “Lizzy, the reality of seeing you here is more wonderful than anything I could have imagined. I cannot believe that you have given yourself to me.” He bent to kiss her.

  It was Elizabeth’s turn to be spellbound. His touch on her skin caused a rush of sensations she had never experienced so intensely, a sort of tingling warmth at the center of her body that caused her to want more.

  He laid his forehead on hers briefly. “I want only to please you tonight, Lizzy, and I hope you will not be afraid. We will go as slowly as you wish, and we will stop whenever you wish.” He noticed her furious blush and kissed her again, tipping her chin up so that he could look into her eyes.

  Her hand strayed across the muscles of his chest, and she allowed one finger to explore a nipple. This elicited a sharply indrawn breath. “You do not like it?”

  “Oh, I like it very much indeed.” Darcy reached down and clasped her more closely, delighting in the rounded smoothness of her bottom. Elizabeth moaned and pressed herself more closely to him. She shivered convulsively, and began to seek her pleasure by moving against him in a sort of innocent seduction that took his breath away.

  “We must lie down, Elizabeth,” he whispered.

  As she lay down beside him, he could see the ghost of a smile, the faint trace of her usual wicked humor, playing about her lips. “I did not intend for that to be amusing, Mrs. Darcy,” he said, kissing her lightly. “What has caused your smile?”

  “Oh, tis nothing.” She returned the kiss, also lightly. “Only it occurs to me that now I will get to see what everyone makes such a great fuss about.” Her laugh was low and soft. “I am so glad to be learning it with you.”

  ✽✽✽

  Later, when the candles had guttered and gone out and the room was lit only by the embers in the fireplace, the lovers had collected themselves into a comfortable tangle beneath the bedclothes. Elizabeth’s voice was sleepy. “Fitzwilliam, I had no idea. I never imagined.” She trailed off as she nestled more closely into his side.

  Darcy laughed softly. “So, it pleased you, then.”

  “Oh, more than I can say. I only wonder—I only wonder how often it is permitted to do such things.”

  “Permitted?” At this he laughed. “Who would prevent us? Aside from a few trivial responsibilities such as eating, we may do such things whenever it pleases us.” He kissed her nose. “Would you like it to be often?”

  “I fear you will think I am wanton. Yes, I would like it to be often.”

  “I am glad to hear you say it. And, Lizzy, when we are together in our own bed, I hope you will be as wanton as you please. That would certainly make me happy.”

  “I think I might need to rest for a little while first.” Elizabeth burrowed into his side, laid an arm across his chest, closed her eyes, and was asleep almost immediately.

  “Goodnight, my dearest girl,” whispered her husband. And then he, too, was asleep.

  Chapter 28

  The new Mr. and Mrs. Darcy passed their days in London in a state of near-unalloyed happiness. They were quite at leisure to get to know each other as husband and wife, both in the intimate setting of their bedchamber and in the somewhat wider setting of their home life. Their first breakfast together as husband and wife was shared in companionable conversation.

  “Mrs. Darcy, I cannot begin to tell you how pleasant it is to see your face across the breakfast-table in our own home,” Darcy observed. “I have just realized that I shall have that privilege for the rest of my life. It is a happy thought.” He reached across and took her hand, noticing that her cheeks were rosier than usual this morning. “Now, what would you like to do today?” Elizabeth blushed. Darcy smiled. “I mean, aside from that, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “I should enjoy a stroll in the garden,” she began. “And it would be a pleasure to begin an acquaintance with the library here.”

  They finished their breakfast and walked downstairs arm in arm. Darcy stopped Elizabeth at the door next to that of his study. “This is your study and sitting-room,” he began. “Its last occupant was my mother. You saw it when we toured the house, but I thought you might like a closer inspection. Of course you may change anything you please. Little has been done to it aside from refreshing the paint and giving it a thorough cleaning.”

  Elizabeth stepped into one of the most delightful spaces she had ever seen. Decorated in the same soft colors as her bedchamber, the room’s furnishings were timeless. A small fireplace occupied one wall, and above it hung the portrait of a youthful blonde lady and a small boy, not yet breeched. His hair was dark, his eyes were serious, and he was showing the lady a small wooden sailboat. Elizabeth was immediately drawn into the enchanting scene. “It must be you with your mother,” she said. “But why are you so solemn? Were you a solemn little boy?”

  “Not at all. I was quite a happy young fellow in those days. I am solemn because of the boat. It did not yet belong to me. I had been promised that if I stayed very still for my portrait that the boat would be mine. I would have it.”

  “And did you eventually prevail?”

  “Certainly. I knew how to act, and I acted accordingly when it pleased me to do so. The boat is still in the nursery at Pemberley.”

  “So, you were a happy boy?”

  “Yes, blissfully so. My parents both spent a great deal of time with me. That was in the time before my mother became ill and my father grew distant and worried.”

  Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder. “I am sorry for that.”

  He pulled her close. “Do not be. It was a good childhood. I had Wickham for a playfellow before he became cruel and mercenary, and I was often in the company of my Fitzwilliam cousins. Pemberley is an idyllic place for any child.”

  “And from what I am told, for grown people as well.”

  Darcy kissed her sweetly. “I am most anxious to show it to you, my dearest.”

  They dined in the family dining-parlor that evening, and when they rose from the table, Darcy asked for some music. He seated himself next to Elizabeth with an offer to turn the pages, but after she had gotten through one selection, he stopped her, placing his lips next to her ear to whisper, “This view of your décolletage is far too tempting, Mrs. Darcy. Let us retire.” As they walked upstairs, he added, “Remind me not to permit any other man to turn your pages when you are in evening dress.” As they reached the corridor to their rooms, he finished, “Dismiss your maid. I have other plans.”

  It would be a mistake to assert that the lovers spent the entire London interlude in their bedchambers. On those occasions when Elizabeth felt she must have a walk, they went before breakfa
st to the nearby park and explored it thoroughly, enjoying it before others were out of doors. Darcy also took her for a ride in his curricle at the “fashionable hour,” with his tiger smartly up behind them. “There will be few people in Town to spoil our peace,” he asserted, and this was indeed the case. They also called upon the Gardiners, who had returned from Netherfield, and were immediately invited to stay for a family dinner.

  When she and Elizabeth were alone, Aunt Gardiner looked carefully at Elizabeth. “Marriage seems to agree with you, Lizzy. Are you as happy as you look?”

  “Happier, Aunt. Mr. Darcy is excessively attentive to my happiness and well-being. I am learning my way around the house, and I feel solidly grounded as Mrs. Darcy.”

  “And what of the subject of our private discussions? Has that gone well?”

  “Very well indeed, Aunt,” replied the blushing Elizabeth. “It is just as you said it would be.”

  “Good. Let us hope for a new little Darcy before long.”

  “When Uncle’s business affairs permit him to get away, I hope you will come for a visit to Pemberley, and bring the children. However, I know he spent a great deal of time on us this past spring.”

  “It will be lovely to have you and Mary in the same neighborhood, and so close to where I grew up,” replied Aunt Gardiner.

  The evening was over too soon, and Elizabeth could not help feeling a little sad as she said her farewells. Her sadness was tempered by the thought that they could look forward to pleasant times both at Pemberley and in town.

  They did not have the pleasure of seeing the Earl and Countess, or Georgiana, who had accompanied Anne de Bourgh back to Rosings Park. Anne was now the lady of the manor, and it was time for her to take over her rightful inheritance. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam was also there, and he would accompany Georgiana to Pemberley after Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had taken up residence there. The Earl wrote to his nephew that Lady Catherine’s condition continued to worsen and that she no longer knew him when he went to visit her.