“So, you never want to leave our bed either?” A look of contentment overspread his face.
“Fitzwilliam, I want to be wherever you are, but this bed has a special appeal,” she taunted.
He moved casually from the bed to retrieve her gown. “I will have someone bring us something to eat and have the room freshened. Maybe you would like to find a robe to add to your wardrobe,” he handed her the gown.“I will get rid of this stubble.” He rubbed his chin across the back of her hand.
Unable to contain her smile, Elizabeth slipped on her gown and disappeared into her dressing room before he put on his trousers and pulled the bell cord for the servants.
Elizabeth, not used to having people wait on her every whim, looked surprised to see Margaret enter her dressing room, but then she realized Darcy summoned her.
“Mrs. Darcy, I am having bathwater brought up; I assume you would like a bath.”
Elizabeth knew her appearance must be an open book of her night with Darcy; she blushed at the thought, but she managed to say, “Thank you, Margaret, that would be nice.” She even offered the woman a hint of a smile.
Two younger maids entered with vases of yellow roses and put them on Elizabeth’s dressing table.“What are these, Margaret?”
“Mr. Darcy had them brought from Pemberley for you, Mrs. Darcy. He had them cut as buds, wrapped in newsprint, and kept damp until they got here so they would not go bad. They were supposed to be here yesterday, but the driver had trouble on the road. Mr. Darcy wanted them for your bedroom last night, Madam; I hope he is not upset.”
“It is fine, Margaret. I am sure Mr. Darcy did not notice.”
“You are right, Madam. With a wife as beautiful as you are, a man should not be looking at flowers. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Darcy, sometimes my mouth runs away from my good sense.” Elizabeth let the woman know she offered no offense, and then she blushed with a remembrance of Darcy’s passion last night.
Margaret moved a screen to block Elizabeth from the view of the servants carrying in the bathwater. Once they left, Elizabeth leisurely lay back in the warm water and let it seep around her body. Images of her husband played in her mind; she could not believe how easily she and Darcy became comfortable with each other; she knew she should not have looked on him or touched him as she did last night, but Darcy accepted her interest in his body—his pleasure as natural; it was liberating. Her mother would have been horrified; Mrs. Bennet, Charlotte, and Lydia painted pictures of what happened between a man and woman in the bedroom. Everything she ever gleaned about her “wifely duty” did not occur in her bedchamber last night. Darcy created a place where her desires often took precedence over his; images of the firmness of his shoulders and back and his arousal danced behind her closed eyes. When she finally got out of the tub, Margaret brought her a fresh gown, this one of white satin. “Another gift from Mr. Darcy, Madam.”
Elizabeth sat down at the dressing table; as she did at Pemberley she reached out gently to touch the petals of the roses. Margaret picked up the hairbrush to tend to Elizabeth’s hair when Darcy came up behind her.“I will do it, Margaret.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” She curtsied and left.
Elizabeth held one of the roses in her hand and took in its fragrance. She said nothing to him as he took the brush and gently swept her hair back from her neck. She watched his reflection as he caressed her neck, kissing the nape; she turned to face him, tears forming in her eyes. “Elizabeth, is there something wrong?”
“It grieves me I did not see the man you were before now,” she whispered.
“I am a different man because I met you, Elizabeth.”
“These flowers are from your mother’s plant, are they not?”
“The yellow represents the constancy of my love for you; each day the yellow sun rises in the sky is a day I will love you, Elizabeth.” He wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Are all women so emotional?” he teased.“You cry when you are happy and when you are sad.”
She gave him a hint of a smile before her arms encircled his neck tightly. “It is part of my arts and allurements,” she whispered in his ear.
“Let us go and eat what we have in our room so we can return to our bed,” he said softly into her hair for she still clung to him tightly. He picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom.
Darcy set her down in one of the chairs; she still clutched the rose in her hand; then he sat down across from her. She was so solemn it perplexed him as to what to do next. He took some of the fresh fruit on a fork and offered it to her. Elizabeth took it in her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. Once she swallowed, she turned to Darcy and said, “Fitzwilliam, I never want you to be sorry you married me. You gave me so much already; I have nothing to give you in return.”
“Elizabeth, give me your respect, help me maintain Pemberley, and love me as you did last night. No man could want for more.”
Although she still felt a bit inadequate to deserve such a man as Fitzwilliam Darcy, Elizabeth nodded her head, but she did not answer. Instead, she picked up the fork, took a piece of fruit on it, and placed it in Darcy’s mouth. It would all be good, she thought. I will prove myself worthy of his love.
Later, when they returned to the bed, Darcy laid back with the pillows propped behind him and Elizabeth’s head on his chest. “Poor Jane,” Elizabeth sighed.
“You are in our bed and thinking about your sister. I lost my appeal to you, I see.”
“On the contrary, Sir. I was just thinking Jane and Mr. Bingley are trying to be husband and wife in a house full of guests and my family three miles down the road. Jane deserves this kind of happiness; she and Mr. Bingley should be somewhere alone as we are.” She turned over and moved where she could reach his mouth. “Now, I am in need of a different kind of sustenance; one of your kisses would greatly restore my energies.” Darcy took her in his arms, letting the lavender overtake him.
For six days they sought no one else’s company but each other’s. Although they no longer took their meals in the bedroom, they spent the majority of their time there. Other times, they read together in the library taking turns reading to one another or just sitting close together as they read.“What are you doing, Elizabeth?” Darcy asked as she placed a book back onto the shelf in the library.
“I wanted to save the roses you gave me.” She seemed a bit embarrassed. “I put two of them in this book of poetry so they would be here each time we returned to Kensington Place. The others I dried to make a sachet.” She crossed the room to where he sat and leaned down to kiss his lips. “Constancy in love must be preserved,” she teased as he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her again.
On other days, Elizabeth played the pianoforte, and Darcy turned the music for her; she even rewarded him by singing for him one evening. He thought to try to teach her billiards, but whenever he encircled her body with his arms to show her how to hold the stick correctly, she always turned to kiss him, and the game was lost to their passion.They were never more than a few feet apart. Darcy often came to her dressing room to just be with her while she bathed or to brush her hair. For a love, which took so long to find, they wasted no time in building a bond no one could destroy.
After a week, they decided a walk through the park would do them well as both were of a nature to spend time out of doors no matter what the weather. With Elizabeth on his arm, Darcy felt he saw London for its beauty for the first time. They walked along busy streets, but they saw no one. Reaching Hyde Park, they chose one of the lesser-traveled paths, enjoying the company of no one else. When they emerged from the secluded path to the main one leading through the park, Darcy stopped short hearing someone call his name. “Darcy, is that you my boy?”
“Your Lordship!” Surprise reflected in his voice while Darcy made his bow.
“It is you, Darcy. It is good to see you.”
“If I knew you were in London, Sir, I would have left my card.”
“Nonsense, do not fret so, my boy. Is this your new bride?”The man
looked closely at Elizabeth.
“My apologies, Sir. Lord and Lady Pennington, may I present my wife Elizabeth?” Elizabeth made her curtsy to Darcy’s companions. “Elizabeth, Lady Pennington is my mother’s cousin.”
“I am honored to meet you both,” Elizabeth dropped her eyes.
Lady Pennington reached out and touched the side of Elizabeth’s face. “Fitzwilliam, she does not appear to be a witch with magical powers,” her ladyship smirked.
“I see you heard from Lady Catherine,” Darcy added as he pulled Elizabeth closer.
“Do not go on so, Fitzwilliam; no one pays Lady Catherine much attention in such matters. Her strict nature makes her opinions less than appealing,” Lady Pennington assured him. “We received news of Anne’s and Edward’s engagement two days ago. Lady Catherine was kind enough to add her note to the announcement.”
“I am glad to hear Edward won Anne’s heart; I hope they will be happy.” Darcy’s affection for his cousins genuinely showed.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Lady Pennington turned to Elizabeth, “would you two care to join us for some tea?”
Elizabeth looked up to Darcy before she answered,“We would be pleased to join you, Lady Pennington.”
They found a confectionery shop, which also served tea, and took a table.The conversation happened naturally although Elizabeth consciously controlled her tendency to be too mirthful. Darcy and Lord Pennington discussed the current political scene while Lady Pennington pumped Elizabeth for details of the wedding.“A double wedding with your elder sister—how delightful! Is Mr. Bingley that amiable young man you brought with you to the earl’s birthday celebration, Fitzwilliam?”
“He is, your Ladyship.”
“Is that not romantic? Sisters married best friends.”
Darcy and Elizabeth smiled at her words of approval. A sudden thought hit Lady Pennington. “Fitzwilliam, please tell me you gave Mrs. Darcy your mother’s necklace for her wedding.That was one of the last things she said to me before she passed.”
“I did, your Ladyship.”
“Good . . . . It was important to her; it was her request for your wife to have it. She always said the green reminded her of Pemberley in the summer and the white, it in winter.Together the jewels were a history of Pemberley worn about her neck.Were they not beautiful, Mrs. Darcy?”
“The necklace was a splendid gift from my husband, but your story made it priceless. Thank you for sharing it with me, Lady Pennington.”
“Of course, my dear.” She reached out and patted Elizabeth’s hand, then she stood to take her leave having finished her tea.“This place was adequate, but I cannot say I enjoyed it as much as Gunter’s on the east side of Berkeley Square.You must have Fitzwilliam take you there in the spring, Mrs. Darcy—just drive up in an open carriage, and the waiters will bring out the finest teas, sorbets, and ices. I adore the burnt filbert cream ice.” Then she turned to Darcy. “Fitzwilliam, you chose well; your mother would be happy with your choice. It will give me great pleasure to let the rest of the family know your wife is exactly what you need, and Lady Catherine is a bitter old woman.When you are ready to rejoin society, you will come to stay with his lordship and me.You will bring Georgiana too; it has been too long since we saw her.”
“We will do so as soon as possible, your Ladyship.” Having made his promise, he bowed; taking Elizabeth’s hand in his, he repeated his thanks; he knew any censure from his family for marrying Elizabeth was solved. Lady Pennington’s opinion in the family easily outweighed anything Lady Catherine could offer.
Although it was the middle of the afternoon, Darcy and Elizabeth lounged lazily across the counterpane on the bed. Exhausted, Darcy lay back with his arm across his eyes; Elizabeth lightly kissed the upper part of his arm not because she wanted him again, but her new husband still fascinated her, and she needed to touch him when he was near.
They spent several hours the last couple of days going over the books of expenses for Pemberley and their other holdings. Once she agreed with Darcy to learn about how to run the estate, she took to the information with a desire to please him. How quickly she grasped the basic information surprised Darcy. There was still much for her to learn, but his plan brought satisfaction. Elizabeth’s security and the future for their heirs depended on her understanding about their various holdings. Most gentlemen would never consider sharing such information with their wives; it was not in their domain, but Darcy knew having Elizabeth as his partner, and not his dependent, would offer his family security in these uncertain times. Her strength of character would be an asset for their future success. Lost in his thoughts, he did not expect her to slide her arm across his chest and bring his attention to the present moment rather than future plans. He reached out and encircled her in his arms, turning on his side to enclose her in his embrace. “Fitzwilliam,” she giggled lightly, “would you buy me a gun? I would like to learn to shoot.”
This was clearly not the conversation he expected in the middle of a tender moment. “Dare I ask what brought on this request? Does my embrace drive you to violence?”
Elizabeth started to laugh, and she began to kiss his chest and move up his neck. “You, Sir, create a strong emotional response in me, but I would not call it violence.”
He could barely remember her request by the time her kisses reached and consumed his mouth. “Then why do you need a gun?” He finally got the words out.
Elizabeth continued to kiss his face, but she managed to answer, “I told Lydia I would shoot Mr. Wickham if he ever showed his face at Pemberley. I would like to keep my word.”
Darcy took both hands and pulled her head back where he could see her expression to see if she teased him.“You are serious, Elizabeth? What brought this on?”
“You know me, Love. My mind jumps about uncontrolled. Mr. Wickham’s expenses were in the ledger today; it reminded me of my confrontation with Lydia.”
“What confrontation?”
“It was after Mr. Wickham’s congratulatory letter. I warned Lydia I would not tolerate her being a part of any plan Mr. Wickham may have. I told her if he ever tried to come to Pemberley, I would see him shot as a trespasser.”
Darcy could not control his laughter. “Elizabeth, you are amazing! I can think of no other woman who would speak as such. Although I would not wish you to experience death, a woman should be able to defend herself,” he reasoned.“I know the perfect gun for a woman such as you are. I married a woman who would shock the world if they knew.”
She began to kiss his face again. “You are right, Mr. Darcy, you married a shameless woman. I desire your constant attention; I desire a secure future for our children; I will let no one hurt you. I am afraid you chose poorly; I possess too much gall and not enough sugar.Are you sorry for your lack of foresight?”
He kissed her deeply before answering. “Lizzy, I need no one in my life but you. In hindsight, I am blessed to have such an amazing woman in love with me. My only regret is I denied my love for you to myself and others so long.”
“You are forgiven, Mr. Darcy.” She kissed him lightly. “However, forgiveness has its price.”
“What payment shall you demand as penance, Lizzy?”
She ran her hand up his body, sending shivers of pleasure through him. “I have but one true vice, Fitzwilliam—you.” Their love was all-consuming; the world could choose to judge; but they were secure in each other, and such judgments were of little consequence.
CHAPTER 21
“Men of sense . . . do not want silly wives.”
They were in London a fortnight although they went out very little. A few evenings of concerts and the theatre, some shopping, walks in the park, and a satisfying evening with the Gardiners met their need for outside entertainment, but they decided the draw of Pemberley could be denied no longer. “Mr. Thacker, we will spend the Festive Season at Pemberley this year. I will send you word of our return to town.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Thacker, I want you to s
ee Mrs. Rowling gets some rest. She has been ill for several days. Call a physician if necessary.” Elizabeth walked past her husband as she placed several items in the hands of a waiting servant to load onto the coach.
“I understand, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Do not let her tell you otherwise, Mr. Thacker. You tell her those are my orders if necessary.”
“She is stubborn, Mrs. Darcy, but I will see to it.”
In the few weeks they stayed at Kensington Place, Elizabeth established a rapport with the servants. She knew the majority of them by name already, and Darcy overheard more than one of them praise her for her graciousness. Her husband did not foresee the many facets of Elizabeth Darcy, but both he and his staff welcomed them. Darcy was pleased with himself for winning Elizabeth’s love, and he marveled how life sprang into action whenever she walked into a room. He doubted he could ever command people’s respect as she did.
“Are you ready, Elizabeth?”
“That is what you asked me, Fitzwilliam, when we came here for our first night together.”
“Is your response the same as it was then, Mrs. Darcy?”
“It is, Sir.” She took his extended arm.“I am most anxious to go home to Pemberley.”The smile on his face reflected the pride in his heart at having Elizabeth as his wife.
They stopped for the evening at the same inn where he left the rest of the party the day he discovered Elizabeth at Pemberley. He delighted in the irony of the tale. “Just think,” she teased, “if you had not done so, you could be sharing your room tonight, Mr. Darcy, with Caroline Bingley.”
“Elizabeth, that is not funny!” However, he laughed because that was what they did: she teased, and Darcy laughed.
When they entered the inn, Mr. Harvey, the innkeeper, rushed to greet them properly. Darcy easily accepted such homage, increasing Elizabeth’s amazement at the customary reverence as being normal. She was more inclined to wait her turn where Darcy was the type to move to the head of the line. “Mr. Harvey, this is my wife Elizabeth.We will require your best rooms tonight.”
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