“Did you bring your guitar, Darcy?” Bingley asked, grinning. Darcy shook his head.
“Oh, do you play? We have one here!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. She ran out of the room and returned with a guitar. She sat down and strummed a few chords out and began to tune it.
“I should have warned you, Will, that my mother was a street performing hippie in her younger days,” said Elizabeth. Her mother wrinkled her nose at her and soon she was joining Mary in playing Christmas music.
After they finished the song, she handed the guitar to Darcy.
“Please, play something for us,” she smiled.
“Mom, he’s not a performing monkey!” Elizabeth stiffened and protested. Darcy laughed and looked at Elizabeth reassuringly.
“It’s fine, Elizabeth,” he said, and took the guitar. He strummed out a few notes, and then played a quick song; everyone listened in rapt silence and then applauded afterward. Elizabeth looked apologetically at him.
“Fanny, I must say that was the finest turkey I have ever eaten, but it has quite clouded my head. What do you say, Lizzy, let’s step outside for a breath of air,” Darcy said and looked to Elizabeth. Elizabeth stood at once and they slipped on their jackets and went outside.
“I’m so sorry, Will, I don’t have any control over her,” she said. She looked truly upset.
He took her hand and turned her to face him. He put his hands on either side of her face. “Elizabeth, stop it! I find nothing wrong with your mother’s behavior; I think she’s delightful. She is trying to please you by being attentive to me, can’t you see that?”
“You don’t think she’s jarring and offensive in her effusiveness?” she asked, a frown creasing her brow.
“You are far too hard on her. You are ruining your own Christmas with this silly notion that I am offended by your family. Do you really think me such a snob?”
“No, of course not. Don’t you see that she’s practically salivating over you? She sees you as marriage material,” Elizabeth replied.
“And you don’t?” he asked. “You’ve never once thought maybe we might get married? You’ve never once imagined me to be your husband? Never once?”
She didn’t answer but looked at him.
“All I’m saying is, stop taking it all so seriously. Nothing your family could do would ever change the way I feel about you. Just relax.”
Elizabeth heard the gentle tone of his voice, felt his hands on her face, and saw the look in his eyes. It sunk in. He wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how horrible her family was. She smiled and then laughed.
“I’m sorry, I’m being an idiot,” she said. He nodded, smiling. They both let out a short laugh, then he kissed her quickly. They returned to the house. Elizabeth sat down on the couch next to her mother and gave her a big hug.
“I love you, Mom,” she said. Mrs. Bennet looked at her daughter in shock and then smiled. She hugged Elizabeth back.
Darcy settled on the floor, cross-legged at Elizabeth’s feet. He and Mary played a few more songs, with the others joining in singing. Mrs. Bennet actually had a lovely voice. They all laughed and sang and Elizabeth stroked the back of his neck and Darcy felt content.
Lydia was the first to mention gifts. Although Darcy had been assured by Elizabeth that no gifts were necessary, he brought something for everyone, wracking his brain for tidbits of knowledge he had gleaned from them over Thanksgiving. He received from Mrs. Bennet a long green scarf with a cream “WD” knitted in at each end. He laughed and wound it around his neck. Elizabeth was about to tell her mother that the initials were wrong but Darcy squeezed her ankle lightly and she instead complimented her mother’s handiwork.
Mrs. Bennet sat warmly in her husband’s lap with a glass of wine, swinging her leg over the arm of the chair. Jane and Bingley lounged on the couch, fingers entwined, new wedding bands gleaming in the Christmas lights. Lydia, Mary and Kitty were laughing over a gift Lydia had given Kitty, which they were trying to hide from their parents.
While everyone was distracted by their own gifts, Elizabeth gave Darcy his; a guitar strap embroidered with delicate, intricate Celtic knots. She had actually made it, having started it as a project for her mother years ago and never finished it. As she took it out again this year, the more she worked on it, the more she wanted to give it to him instead. So she embroidered small “FD”s on each end of the length of fabric and had a leatherworker attach it to a guitar strap.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, fingering it lightly and looking up to her. She leaned down to him, hugging her knees.
“I made it,” she said quietly, almost shyly, wrinkling her nose. The next thing she knew, he had jerked her down into his lap and planted a kiss on her. She laughed against his lips and returned his kiss.
“Oh, what is it Lizzy?” Mrs. Bennet said, looking to Darcy’s hand. He handed it up to Jane, who passed it around for everyone’s admiration.
“Oh, Lizzy, I hope you have the receipt, you’ve got the initials wrong!” her mother laughed. Darcy, Jane, Bingley, and Elizabeth all laughed. The strap was passed back to him. “What’s so funny?” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.
“Mom, Darcy’s real, unbearably pretentious, first name is Fitzwilliam,” Bingley laughed.
“But I much prefer Will!” Darcy exclaimed. “And I love your scarf, I’ll wear it every day.” Mrs. Bennet laughed.
“Oh don’t worry, I can knock one of those out in one afternoon. I’ll make you another one in no time!” she laughed. “Next year I’ll make you one of my sweaters!” she threatened. All five daughters groaned and laughed. The thought of spending another or possibly many more Christmases with the Bennet family was very appealing to him.
The remaining gifts were exchanged; Darcy gave Elizabeth a book on astronomy for each day of the year. She flipped to December 24 and she, Darcy, and her father all went to the back yard to look through the telescope. The night was chilly and Darcy was thankful for his new warm scarf. He could tell that Elizabeth was her father’s favorite; they shared the same humor and interests and he admired her sense above that of all her sisters. He was glad that Mr. Bennet seemed to approve of him as a suitable boyfriend.
The evening wound down and everyone sat in subdued contentment, buzzed nicely with wine, food, and Christmas cheer. Elizabeth sat on the floor between Darcy’s legs, leaning back into his chest. He had one arm around her, holding her close to him. His hand rested on her shoulder, thumb lightly stroking her collarbone as they relaxed in the dim light of the Christmas tree. He smelled her hair and leaned his cheek on her head. Without warning, but certainly not without welcome, Elizabeth turned her head and kissed him warmly.
Eventually, Darcy, Jane, Elizabeth and Bingley roused themselves and said goodnight. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet gave Darcy a very fond farewell and said he should come over for dinner soon. They climbed tiredly into Darcy’s car and drove to Jane and Elizabeth’s house in Meryton.
Once in her bedroom, Elizabeth undressed and fell into bed on her back, exhausted. Darcy climbed in next to her, and lay on his side, head propped up on his hand.
“That wasn’t bad at all, was it? I’m afraid to say, you seem to fit in with my family. I’m sorry to pain you but there it is,” she said, sleepily.
“I did have one last gift,” he said, opening his hand before her. Hanging from his fingers was a pair of brilliant asscher-cut drop diamond earrings. She looked up to him, shocked. He smiled. “Don’t thank me, it’s a gift to myself. I wanted to see them on you.”
He watched as she put the earrings on and turned to face him. He nodded approvingly.
“Even better than I imagined,” he said. She smiled and pushed him onto his back, straddling him.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you,” she said, kissing him.
“Undoubtedly it was something very naughty. Perhaps it involved an encounter at an all-girls school? And I’m sure short skirts and knee socks were involved,” he said, smiling against her lips. She laughed and put h
er arms around his neck, grasping the iron post headboard behind him.
“You are a kinky man, Mr. Darcy,” she smiled.
He looked at her in perfect tenderness and stroked a curl of her hair.
“No, Miss Bennet, in fact my tastes are very simple. My favorite color is Elizabeth. My favorite song is Elizabeth. My favorite flavor of ice cream is Elizabeth. My favorite flower is Elizabeth. My favorite fruit is the pear, because it smells like Elizabeth.” This simple declaration was made with a sincerity that stilled her heart. She could say nothing else.
Instead, she kissed him and caressed him, held him until he was breathless. He let out a sigh of pleasure as she joined their bodies. She pulled herself along him, arching her body in the moonlight. He ran his fingers over her peaks and valleys, tracing each contour as if to commit it to memory. She whispered his name against his neck while he trailed his finger over her spine. He gently rolled her to her back.
His hands felt the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, the line of her thigh as it moved along his side. He stretched over her body, no end and no beginning to each, they were the same.
He sensed, rather than heard, their heartbeats become synchronized. He could feel her heartbeat inside his own chest. When she drew breath, his lungs filled. He did not know how he would take another breath on his own without her. He was experiencing her with a clarity he had never before known. Their connection seemed to surpass the physical; if he strained, he could hear her thoughts like whispers inside his head: this is what it means to love.
Their trembling sighs mingled into one breath. She knew that his skin tingled when her fingertips brushed over it. She felt the coursing of his blood in her own veins. She would never be Elizabeth again, and he would never be Will again; their souls would be forever colored by the essence of other.
They expelled soft cries at the same time, breathing into each other’s’ mouths, names whispered, or were they thought, in ardor.
She trembled within his shaking arms, both too overcome to speak. His fingers still curled in her hair, his breath slower but still hot against her ear. Their bond had been powerful, beyond the pale into something approaching transcendental. Each felt shaken as the sublime connection eased its grip, released them back into their own consciousnesses. He wanted to weep, mourning the loss of that perfect union of awareness. He heard her shuddering exhalation and kissed away the salty wetness on her cheek.
They fell asleep in a tight embrace that shifted little during the night. When she woke in the morning, he was looking at her.
“Happy Christmas, Elizabeth,” he said quietly. Indeed it was.
***
The remainder of Christmas was spent with Darcy’s family. They were invited to brunch at Fletcher’s family’s house. Then Fletcher and Georgie joined them on a visit to the Fitzwilliam family. Richard kissed Elizabeth warmly and winked at Darcy. Darcy was too content to feel any stab of jealousy; besides, he had begun to take Elizabeth’s view that any attentions toward her were in fact a compliment to him.
Later Bingley, Jane, and Caroline joined them. As much as she hated - hated - to admit it, Elizabeth liked Caroline. She was smart and funny and had a genuine affection for Jane, Bingley, and Darcy. Will had been right; once you stopped taking the bait, Caroline stopped trying to push your buttons.
Elizabeth met Richard’s older brother Henry and his wife Rose and their two young children. Darcy played with his cousin’s children, swinging them by their arms to their delighted shrieks. He spent a good deal of the afternoon with a four year old girl seated firmly on his shoulders.
Richard and Caroline struck up a conversation that nobody else was interested in but that kept them engaged for over an hour.
After dinner, Darcy and Elizabeth found a quiet corner to relax in and he said quietly to her, “Did you really do that dance for him?” referring to the ‘Hot Stuff’ dance and Richard. She nodded and he pressed his lips together. “Did you sleep with him?” he asked, steeling himself for the answer and his follow up request for comparison.
“No, I didn’t. I wasn’t that interested in him. I thought he was too shallow,” she replied.
He looked at her, surprised. He had heard Richard called many things but shallow was not one of them.
“He’s not shallow!” Darcy replied defensively. Elizabeth laughed.
“So you think I should have, then? Would you like me to go make it up to him now?”
He gave her a stormy look and did not answer.
“You know he thinks you disapprove of him?” she said.
He nodded. “I do. But only superficially. He’s a bohemian, a lovable, irresponsible lout. I’ll always think of him as the cousin who always got me into trouble when we were kids. He’s impulsive. I got him out of a bit of trouble with a wedding in Vegas a few years back, where he was at risk of losing a good bit of his fortune. But he’s fundamentally a good man and I like him. Although his lifestyle is one I could never have. He’s constantly traveling, can’t seem to settle into one place. I’ve always envied his easy ways; I was always shy or reserved. He’s incredibly successful with women.”
“He is charming but he knows it. I liked him but I was disappointed that he didn’t call me after our date. He wasn’t a keeper. Not like you at all,” she said, putting her hand on his knee. He gave her a lopsided smile.
“Tell me more,” he said. She sighed. Why were guys always asking her to compare them?
“Let’s cut to the chase. Your penis is bigger,” she said.
“You’re the best, do you know that?” he laughed.
Chapter 35
Milton Gardiner’s retirement party was held on a luxury yacht in the San Francisco Bay. There must have been at least two hundred people there and at least half of them attorneys. Elizabeth arrived early to help with setup and nametags and Darcy arrived a while later, having dropped her off a block from the dock and then driven around for fifteen minutes. They were still trying to avoid the appearance of a serious relationship in public until his term was over in April. It was already March, and there was not long to go.
Elizabeth’s peach colored dress, draping modestly over her breast and skimming subtly over her hips, drew Darcy’s eye immediately when he entered. Her hair was swept up in a chignon, sedate diamond drop earrings in her ears. He marveled briefly over how she unerringly captured his attention no matter where she was. As if feeling his gaze, she glanced up and met his eyes with a soft, warm smile. He nodded once in acknowledgement and turned to greet a friend. They circulated in separate parts of the party for an hour, mingling and greeting old friends and associates.
The ship pulled out from dock as the sun was setting. Darcy and Elizabeth shared a brief moment on deck as they went under the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Did I tell you how lovely you look tonight?” he said. She shook her head and smiled.
“But it’s duly noted, Your Honor,” she replied. He grinned and took a step away from her as another attorney approached. Elizabeth excused herself while the other attorney chatted with Darcy for some time.
Dinner was served and they ate at separate tables. Speeches and toasts were made and people began to get a little drunk. Darcy walked to the back of the room and stood behind everyone else. Soon Elizabeth was by his side. They stood together for some time while Judge Boyd made a boring speech. Darcy sneaked his hand to Elizabeth’s low back.
As the speech droned on, Darcy’s hand slipped lower onto her rear. He slid a hand slowly over her cheek, fingers tracing the curve where cheek met leg. He ran a finger back up, trailing lightly her rear cleavage. She tried to repress her smile but failed. He looked resolutely ahead, giving no sign of his hand’s explorations. He ran his hand again over her cheek, cupping it and caressing it. God how I love her ass, he thought. And her tits, and her lips... He gave her bottom a light smack and pulled his hand away from her.
The interminable speech continued and Darcy wandered out onto the deck for some bracing, libido-dous
ing air. He turned and looked into the ballroom and again admired Elizabeth’s figure. Then he realized with a start that she was–they were - plainly visible to anyone on deck. He looked to his left and saw a group of about eight attorneys, male and female, looking at him. Some raised their glasses to him, others gave him a thumbs up; all were grinning and laughing. He recognized all of them, knew their names. Every. Last. One. Jesus fucking Christ, he thought, and quickly looked away from them. And was surprised to realize that he didn’t care. He laughed to himself.
A moment later, Elizabeth joined him.
“He certainly does admire Milton!” she grinned as she stepped up to the railing beside him. He smiled. She looked out over the water and saw the shimmering city lights in the distance. She shivered in the breeze and Darcy took his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. She turned to thank him.
He kissed her.
“Will!” she said, pulling back. “There are people everywhere,” she reminded him.
“I don’t care.” Darcy took a pin out of her hair and flung it into the water. Another followed shortly after. She looked at him in shock and amusement. Had he gone mad?
“I don’t care, Elizabeth, I love you.” He put his fingers into her hair and let it cascade over her shoulders. He kissed her again. “I love you.” She laughed at him and returned his kiss.
He was not unaware of the catcalls coming from their ready-made audience.
“Go get her, Judge!”
“Dar-cy, Dar-cy, Dar-cy!”
“The Looooove Boooat,”
He pulled one hand from her hair and extended his middle finger at them, much to their delight. They hooted and laughed but did not leave. He sighed. He had carried his mother’s ring in his pocket for three weeks now, looking for the perfect opportunity to propose. None had arisen; something had always gone amiss. An unfortunate phone call, a distraction, an interruption, an argument. Clearly the universe was not bending to his will on this.
The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy Page 37