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Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice Sequel Bundle: 3 Reader Favorites

Page 117

by Linda Berdoll


  It was some twenty minutes later before he arose from the bed. The few kisses had evolved into far greater diversions. Lizzy was akin to a slippery eel in her ability to extricate herself from swaddled covers. Darcy could not relate how it occurred, but in no time at all, she was on top of the comforter, limbs entwined with his. Thoughts of timetables, schedules, and prior commitments fled under the forces rushing through his body. Even after two weeks of marriage and the passion that had inundated his existence, he was still amazed at how rapidly he responded to her touch; nay, even her presence was enough! His arousal was immediate and marked, his need for her vehement.

  Somehow his coat was discarded haphazardly, but the remainder of his clothing stayed, neither of them wishing for the delay. One would assume they had not made love in months instead of just the previous night, their hunger raging and consuming them as it did. Their lovemaking was frenzied but no less rhapsodic.

  As he buttoned his breeches and straightened his waistcoat, smiling at his divine wife, his love was too profound to experience any regret. He was behind schedule now, but the memory of her and the tingling sensations coursing through his veins vastly outweighed any time concerns.

  He finished adjusting his rumpled clothing as she arose from the bed, standing before him in all her glory. She buttoned his jacket and tamed his mussed hair with her fingers. “There,” she said, “you are presentable. And tremendously handsome, I daresay.” She smiled and kissed him lingeringly.

  “I love you, Mrs. Darcy, and shall miss you.” His hands traveled over her body and he nuzzled her neck, planting one last kiss on her earlobe before he pulled away. As if fearful of losing his restraint yet again, he turned abruptly and strode rapidly to the door, pausing for one last look and a devastating smile as he closed the door behind him.

  Lizzy sighed, eyeing the bed but knew she would not be able to return to sleep. Besides, she did have plans for herself today. She retrieved her nightgown from the floor wondering, not for the first time, why she even bothered donning one each night. Her husband did delight in removing it, she mused with a becoming blush, which was an incentive to maintain the habit.

  Their sitting room felt emptier without Darcy, and Lizzy did not like dining alone, so she ate quickly. This was the first day in over two weeks that they would be apart for more than an hour or two. Even when Darcy had needed to attend to business, he had been brief or had worked while she sat nearby. The realities of life at Pemberley were gradually invading their idyllic solitude. Darcy had postponed today’s outing for several days, but he could no longer ignore his responsibilities. It was sad; however, Lizzy was determined not to mope about but instead to benefit from the time alone.

  First, she met with Mrs. Reynolds in her parlor. Over the past week, they had conversed on a number of occasions, primarily about the Christmas festivities. Lizzy was gradually growing more comfortable with the housekeeper and had began inquiring about other topics relating to the manor’s management and tasks that she should eventually assume.

  Mrs. Reynolds was all that Darcy had declared she was: benevolent, amicable, patient, supportive, and incredibly elated to have Lizzy as mistress.

  Mr. Keith had graciously penned a detailed report of all the Pemberley tenants and their families. Lizzy’s initial task with Mrs. Reynolds was to discuss the holiday gift boxes for the tenants. This was an old tradition that had been maintained over the years but without the personal touch of a Mistress. Lizzy decided this was a perfect commencement of her duties and a splendid way to acquaint herself with the folks who devoted their service to Pemberley.

  She hoped that Georgiana would wish to accompany her. Darcy had never insisted on Georgiana undertaking the tasks properly expected of the Mistress of Pemberley since this was not her role and she was too young. However, he did believe it imperative that she learn what being the mistress of an estate entailed since she would someday marry. He and Lizzy had conferred and decided that Lizzy joining the family afforded an ideal opportunity for them to be educated together.

  Using a map of the estate and her knowledge of the surrounding area, Mrs. Reynolds figured it would take two to three days to deliver the packages, allowing time to socialize. A rough agenda was laid for the days prior to Christmas. The gifts were to be individualized based on each family’s needs. That was where Mr. Keith’s and Darcy’s intimate knowledge proved to be invaluable. Darcy had been proud of Lizzy when she broached the subject of tackling this chore. He had willingly put aside his own business, and they had sat for more than two hours talking about the tenants while Lizzy jotted down the information. Mrs. Reynolds imparted personal tidbits about the children and wives. Armed with this data, Lizzy had dictated meticulous lists of purchases to be made, victuals to be prepared, and game to be dressed for each family.

  Next, they finalized the menus for Christmas Eve and Day. Mrs. Langton managed the kitchens with an iron fist and required little in the way of instruction. Lizzy had requested the inclusion of some of her personal favorite dishes and asked to be shown the daily menu for her approval, yet other than that, no changes needed to be made. As far as the holiday preparations were concerned, Mrs. Langton was abundantly capable, having served the Darcy family for more than twenty years. Although Lizzy had heard rumors of Mrs. Langton’s grousing about the extra work, Mrs. Reynolds assured her that the cook was never happier than when overtaxed and that her belligerence was a well-honed personality trait used to perfection in her superior management of the kitchen staff.

  “I am confident that Mrs. Langton will provide adequately for all our guests,” Lizzy said, marking a check on her list, “and that she will command the huntsmen aptly. Now, I see that the groundsmen have been trekking into the woods for holly, ivy, and mistletoe. I want to drape the entire manor if possible!”

  “I have instructed them, Mistress. I have purchased ribbon to tie the boughs and lace through the vines. I inventoried the stock of candles and ordered several dozen additional. Mr. Taylor will be directing the footmen to unpack the decorations in storage, and the maids will oversee any cleaning or repairs. This will be finished by the end of the week. With your permission, Mrs. Darcy, I would request that we refrain from the final trimming until Miss Georgiana arrives.”

  “Absolutely, Mrs. Reynolds.” Lizzy smiled. “It shall be wonderful to have Miss Darcy home. Our acquaintance was unfortunately fleeting before the wedding, therefore not conducive to forming a sisterly relationship, as I desire ours to be. Also, Mr. Darcy misses her terribly.”

  Mrs. Reynolds continued, crossing items off her own list as she went, “The guest chambers are being prepared. Col. Fitzwilliam will most likely stay here rather than at the Matlock Estate. I have chosen the largest of our couple’s suites in the north wing for the Lathrops, if this meets with your approval, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “I will trust your judgment in this matter, Mrs. Reynolds, since the guest rooms are unfamiliar to me yet.”

  “Thank you, Mistress. I doubt if Lord and Lady Matlock will tarry over night; however, I have taken the liberty of preparing a suite for them as well. The weather can be unpredictable this time of year.”

  “Excellent.” Lizzy examined her paper with a small frown. “Well, all appears to be in order. The Yule log has been cut and dressed, the pianoforte tuned, and menus arranged. The house is impeccably clean as always, and games and activities have been concocted and equipped for…” She sighed and shyly met Mrs. Reynolds kind eyes. “Mrs. Reynolds, I must confess to you how tremendously I appreciate your collaboration with me. You have been patient and thoughtful and exceedingly supportive. I am well aware that you did not need my input on any of the planning; nonetheless, you have embraced my interference and have taught me so much. I cannot thank you enough.”

  Mrs. Reynolds blushed faintly. “Mrs. Darcy, may I speak freely?” Lizzy nodded. “The Darcys are dear to me, as is Pemberley. I flatter myself that I know Mr. Darcy well, or at least as well as a servant can ever know one’s master. His
joy since his marriage to you, Mrs. Darcy, is beyond anything I have ever witnessed from him. That fact alone would induce me to welcome you and, frankly, endure any hardship on my part in the process.

  “However, this has not been the case. If I may be so bold, I sincerely like you. You are intelligent, lively, honorable, and most importantly, you love Mr. Darcy and Pemberley. I am discovering that these discussions and educational opportunities with you are a source of pleasure to me. Therefore, the thanks are entirely mine, Mistress.”

  Lizzy was overcome and speechless, eyes glazed with tears. Mrs. Reynolds lightly patted her hands then rose, resuming her brisk, efficient manner. “Is there anything else, Mrs. Darcy?”

  “No, I believe we have covered the list for now.”

  “Very well. Luncheon shall be served early, as you requested, and Phillips will be awaiting you in the foyer when you are ready.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.” With a curtsey, she left. Lizzy remained seated for a while, thinking. Her mind turned to William, wondering where he was at that moment, what he was doing. She shook her head. Do not start down that path! A knock at the door interrupted her reverie. “Enter.”

  A maid approached and handed her a letter. “This just arrived, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “Thank you. Your name is Hannah, is it not? I am slowly learning.”

  “There are many of us, Mrs. Darcy. I still cannot remember the names of all the footmen.” She giggled and then flushed, realizing belatedly that she was being too forward.

  Lizzy, however, laughed the tinkling laugh they had all grown accustomed to hearing in the usually quiet house. “Thank you, Hannah. That comforts me.”

  The letter was in actuality an invitation addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley from Sir John Cole of Melcourt Hall. There was to be a Twelfth Night Masquerade Ball. Lizzy’s heart fluttered in excitement mixed with no slight amount of trepidation at the news. She had never attended anything so formal in her life, and it would be the first social outing with her husband. She shrugged. Sooner or later she had to meet the families of Derbyshire and afterwards the ton of London. A ball was as fine a place as any to begin!

  For the afternoon, Lizzy had decided to drive to Matlock for some shopping. Phillips and another footman named Georges attended her. The town of Matlock was larger than Lambton and a mere ten miles further south. Marguerite, who had resided there for the past eight years, had supplied her mistress with a list of the finest shops the town had to offer.

  She spent several lovely hours acquiring gifts for her parents, sisters, Charlotte, Georgiana and, of course, William. The funds that Darcy had allotted her were more than adequate for all she wished to purchase. So much so, in fact, that she could never envision spending them all. She even picked up a few odds and ends for the tenants and the servants, and still had a surplus.

  Once she was home, dressing for dinner, her aching heart conquered her. Darcy had not yet returned and the loneliness of the long day without his smiles, kisses, tender touch, and lush, masculine voice caught up to her. She wore a new gown, fashionable and of a highly daring style. She chose the sapphires and Marguerite dressed her hair strikingly, permitting several curls to fall over one shoulder.

  The sun was setting, casting the gardens into deeper gloom, before Lizzy heard her husband’s unmistakable resonant baritone and firm tread in the hall. Her heart skipped a beat and every ounce of willpower was called forth to forestall her rushing from the room and into his arms. Instead, she sedately strolled out of the parlor where she was lurking to see him hand his coat to a footman and speak with Mr. Keith. He was dusty and windblown with a dark shadow of beard. She smiled brightly, content merely to gaze at him until he finally noticed her in his peripheral vision.

  He halted mid-sentence and broke into a beaming grin as his eyes roved over her entire form. The footman disappeared, as they always seemed capable of doing, and Mr. Keith murmured something about discussing these matters on the morrow as he quit the area. Darcy was unaware of it all, paralyzed by the heavenly vision of his wife.

  “Mr. Darcy, welcome home.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Darcy, I am happy to be home.” He kissed the hand she offered, slowly and with a decidedly improper caress. He took a step closer to her, peering intently into her eyes. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, “I have missed you and could easily, without the slightest thought to propriety, ravish you this very second.”

  Lizzy laughed and tossed her head saucily. “Well then, Mr. Darcy, it is fortunate that I have been far too busy to miss you at all, so my emotions are in check!”

  “Not even the tiniest bit, my love?” He teased the tip of his tongue over one palm.

  “Perhaps a time or two, husband. So many duties the Mistress of Pemberley must attend to, you see.” Her eyes twinkled but her voice was more than a little shaky.

  He smiled and again raked his eyes seductively over her body. “You were not thinking of me when you selected this specific gown, my dearest wife?”

  “Do you like it? It is new!” she asked, suddenly sounding more like a giggly teenager as she posed and twirled around, dropping a flirtatious curtsey.

  Darcy laughed gaily. “I like it enormously, Mrs. Darcy. I especially admire that there are only these three buttons and one sash keeping it on your body.”

  “Shocking, Mr. Darcy! I pray Samuel has drawn a cool bath for you as your temperature appears to be elevated. Shall I accompany you to your dressing room, husband?”

  “I am considering the vast number of empty chambers between here and my dressing room, so it would undoubtedly be prudent for you to wait for me in the parlor.” His kiss brushed her cheek briefly but nonetheless sent a thrill through Lizzy’s veins. “I shall not be long, my love.”

  Lizzy watched him until he climbed the distant stairs, a naughty gleam that he did not detect sparkling in her fine eyes.

  Darcy had finished washing and shaving, a damp towel draped about his shoulders. Samuel was inside the closet retrieving the garments Mr. Darcy had indicated he wished to wear, while Darcy pulled on his trousers.

  “Enchanting view, Mr. Darcy. Quite rejuvenating!”

  Darcy spun about, his expression of laughable fright and shock rapidly replaced with an expansive smirk. Lizzy had quietly opened the well-oiled door and was only a couple of feet behind her husband, leaning audaciously against the wall. Before either of them could utter a word, poor Samuel exited the closet and, upon spying Elizabeth, he yelped, dropped the clothes onto the floor, blanched, and then blushed scarlet.

  Lizzy averted her face, biting her lip to avoid bursting into gales of mirth. Darcy barely glanced at his valet, eyes fixed on his wife. “You may retire, Samuel. Thank you, I no longer require your services.”

  Samuel stammered something inaudible and dashed out of the room. Lizzy could contain herself no longer and laughed helplessly. Darcy pinned her to the wall with his arms locked on either side of her waist. “You deserve to be disciplined severely for such behavior, wife. What shall your punishment be?”

  “I do not figure that my behavior warrants a reprimand, Mr. Darcy! You started this little game, remember, and I did give you fair warning. If you failed to alert your valet, the fault is entirely yours.” She affected a pout and primly downcast her gaze. “However, if you truly feel that punishment is necessary, I shall be an obedient wife. Your earlier threat of ravishment sounded particularly distasteful. I am sure my lesson would be learned by such chastisement.”

  She coyly fluttered her lashes and ran one hand the length of his torso, shoulder to hip. Darcy leaned slowly and enticingly toward her as if to plant a kiss, but then paused mere inches from her upturned lips. “I rather imagine withholding ravishment would be a greater torture, my love. Yes, now that I reflect on the issue, this shall be your penalty.” And with this pronouncement, Darcy withdrew a pace, smiling at his wife’s expression of surprise and thwarted desire.

  Darcy’s satisfaction at beating his wife at her own game was short
lived, however. When it came to teasing, Darcy might have been learning quickly, but Lizzy was the master. She shrugged her shoulders and studied her fingernails with deep intensity, declaring unconcernedly, “As you wish, husband. I accept my sentence and will now leave you so I may ruminate on my faults and failings. I shall meet you in the dining room properly demure and sober.”

  As she concluded her contrived and transparently spurious little speech, she kissed Darcy primly on the cheek yet managed to accidentally brush her breasts against his bare chest and her hand over his nether regions as she turned toward the door.

  She had not taken a single step before her wrist was captured in a vise-like grip and she was spun around and again pinned to the wall, this time by her husband’s entire body. Although Lizzy had begun this little game, she was nonetheless taken aback by the lustful response of her husband. Before she could utter one sound, he had claimed her mouth in an ardent kiss, lifted her skirts to her waist, and begun to attack her undergarments with confidence.

  Thus far they had always made love lying down in some manner. The positions had varied somewhat, leaving Lizzy constantly amazed at the diverse ways the human body could be manipulated. So naturally she assumed Darcy would take her into the bedchamber or at least fall to the floor here in his dressing room, which frankly is what she had fantasized. Never would she have entertained the concept of him pinning her to the wall and loving her beautifully and intensely right there.

  Darcy sank to his knees with Lizzy entwined, time necessary to regain use of weakened muscles. Lizzy slowly planted kisses on his shoulder and neck, moving to his face. He cupped her in trembling hands, tenderly stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “Precious love,” he whispered, “amazing, beautiful, giving.”

 

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