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

by Linda Berdoll

  She peered at his frowning face. “Did you… do anything to him?”

  He inhaled deeply and then smiled, “Such as trounce him within an inch of his miserable life? It was tempting, but no. Somehow I did not think you would wish to dance with me covered in blood.” He ran his fingers over her cheeks. “Elizabeth, are you positive you are well? You must tell me the truth.” He continued to peer at her with the familiar Darcy intensity at full force while gently massaging the wrist Orman had grabbed.

  “I am fine. I was angry more than anything. I despise rude people and did not want this wonderful night ruined.”

  Darcy kissed her wrist and mouth tenderly and then rose. “Nothing is ruined, my love. If I have not lost track of time, there is still one more dance set before the play.” He held his arm out. “May I have the honor, Mrs. Darcy?”

  They were the last couple to join the line. It was a frolicsome dance to end the evening, and by the completion, Lizzy and Darcy had put the whole episode with Lord Orman behind them. Smiling and breathless, they accompanied the parade of merrymakers into the dining room, which had hastily been converted into a playhouse. The stage spanned the far wall, an enormous curtain concealing the preparations from the audience being ushered to their seats. The Darcys’ seats were in the fifth row. As soon as the lights were dimmed, Darcy clasped Lizzy’s hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

  It was now after midnight; therefore, Twelfth Night was officially over and it was now Twelfth Day, the traditional day of Christ’s Epiphany. The Coles had, for all the years of their Masque, separated the entertainment into two parts: feast and dancing followed by a stage theatrical. This year Sir Cole had hired a troupe of pantomimes from London for the first act. As expected, the comedic company delivered a riotous, irreverent performance. The play chosen was the classic English fairy tale Jack and the Beanstalk, executed brilliantly with smashing audience participation. Mugs of wassail had been passed around for the obligatory cheers of “Waes hael,” as well as small bags of beans to throw at the giant when instructed. Lizzy had never witnessed anything quite like it nor laughed so hard in her life.

  After an intermission, the audience took their seats for the last half of the production. For the dramatic portion of the theatrical, Sir Cole had hired a renowned company from Birmingham to perform the new play by E. T. A. Hoffmann, Nutcracker and the Mouse King. This latest piece had been written just that year and not yet translated for the general masses; therefore, it was an amazing treat. Darcy, especially, was fascinated by the Prussian author’s stories, so he was delighted and utterly spellbound. Lizzy privately found it too somber but highly imaginative, nonetheless, and magnificently acted.

  The end of the theatricals effectively capped a marvelous evening. Visiting, drinking, and nibbling continued for several hours more, although Darcy and Lizzy tarried for some forty-five minutes only. Lizzy renewed her teatime appointment with Harriet, Mrs. Fitzherbert, Mrs. Sitwell, and Mrs. Drury. Darcy thanked his aunt for comforting Elizabeth after the Orman debacle. Invitations were extended by Darcy to several of the young couples of his circle for dinner two days hence, before the Gardiners and Lathrops departed. He spontaneous planned this without consulting Lizzy, to her surprise, not because she minded but because she would have thought him weary of so much entertainment.

  Finally in their carriage, nestled close for warmth as well as the yearning to touch each other, Lizzy sighed and contentedly rested her head on Darcy’s inner shoulder. He kissed her head and stroked her arm. She arched her neck and peered at her husband’s smiling face. “You were the handsomest man there, my love, and I the most fortunate of women because I get to go home with you.”

  “Flatterer! It is not necessary, beloved; you already have me.”

  “I can only speak the truth. Now kiss me, Mr. Darcy, and then tell me about the plans you have for when we get home.”

  He did not answer her inquiry but did acquiesce to her request by kissing her searchingly in sheer delight. The short carriage ride home passed swiftly, both of them gasping shallowly with barely enough forethought to cease their activity before the footman opened the door. The cold blast of winter air restored clarity sufficiently to enable them to ascend the staircases in relative calm.

  The manor was dimly lit and quiet. A fire was smoldering in their bedchamber, but otherwise the room was dark. Darcy barely managed to keep his hands off his lovely wife during the long walk. He drew her back against his chest the moment they entered their room, latching the door simultaneously. His hands stroked voraciously over her hips and thighs as he delivered sensuous kisses along the silky nakedness of her neck and collarbone.

  “Oh, my sweet, delicious wife. How is it possible to love and hunger for you more with each day that passes?” He suckled her earlobe. Lizzy moaned, pressing herself firmly against him. “You render me breathless with desire, my lover. So beautiful. Dancing with you was equally a pleasure and an agony.”

  “Agony?” she asked in a bare whisper.

  He turned her in his arms, cupping her face with his hands, thumbs caressing. “I want you so, my beloved. Do you know what exquisite torture it is to be so close to you, to feel your touch, gaze upon your enchanting beauty, and yearn to make love to you with every muscle in my body, yet not be able to even kiss you?”

  She smiled. “Yes, William, I do know. Were you fantasizing again, beloved?”

  “Always. Carefully, however, or the entire assembly would have been witness to Darcy of Pemberley’s more personal and private attributes.”

  Lizzy laughed, reaching down while kissing his lips lightly, she said, “I would rather keep those marvelous attributes for mine eyes only.”

  “You forever shall, Elizabeth. Now, stay here a moment.” He added a log to the fire and then lit a couple lamps, returning hastily to where she patiently stood. With a stunning smile and graceful bow, he asked, “Mrs. Darcy, may I have this dance?”

  She giggled at his silliness, but curtseyed properly, “You may, Mr. Darcy.”

  In a flawless waltz position, humming Mozart in perfect pitch, he swept her about the room. Full orchestra music was unnecessary. As regally as at the Masque, their clothing impeccable and movements as one, they floated. The flowing, elegant steps proceeded naturally as they raptly adored each other. As they glided through the sensuous swaying motions, Darcy incrementally lured her closer to his body until they touched. His left hand grasped Lizzy’s right, fingers interlaced, and he kissed each finger before placing their enfolded hands against his heart. They danced, twirled, and wove in unity and rhythm as their passion heightened. Both were panting and light-headed with a burning desire.

  Darcy steered her to the edge of the bed, laying her down smoothly as he hovered above her, supporting himself so as not to crush her. “I love you, Elizabeth,” he murmured and then engulfed her mouth with a hungry urgency. One seeking hand traveled leisurely over her body, tantalizing her through the filmy satin of her gown as she arched to meet him. With a throaty groan, he pulled away from her lips momentarily, studying her rapturous face, and continuing to arouse her with his fingers as she gasped and trembled while skillfully arousing him. They kissed again as if starved, delirious with rising ardor, wanting to be joined together intimately as if life depended on it, yet unable to break from the consummate rapture of shared breath.

  Raining moist kisses over her neck, he peeled the delicate fabric off one shoulder, traveling to her exposed bosom for gentle kisses. In time he moved to kneeling on the floor between her legs. Caressing under her skirt and petticoat until the urgent craving to love each other consumed them, they joined forcefully and blissfully.

  “William! My heart, oh God, how I love you!” She clutched his shoulders under his jacket, succumbing to the joy of him, the love and passion that consumed her now and always. On they loved, heaven attained eventually as they molded bodily and melded spiritually.

  Darcy collapsed onto her. Words were temporarily impossible, all effort expended
on breathing. Lizzy’s wits resurfaced first. Running her fingers through his hair, her head turning to kiss his cheek, she murmured, “Fitzwilliam, my lover, I adore you more than life.”

  Darcy lifted on an elbow, fingering along her face with one hand while the other embedded into the curls spilling over her right shoulder. He kissed her tenderly. “You are beautiful, my wife. All night I watched you dazzling and charming the citizens of Derbyshire, and pride consumed me. I cannot believe you are mine, my Lizzy, my treasure. I am the most fortunate of men.”

  She smiled, “We are both fortunate, husband. Now, I want to feel your glorious naked body surrounding me as we sleep. You have blissfully exhausted me, so I shall need your assistance to undress.”

  He chuckled, kissed her lightly. “I am not certain I can stand, so we may need to help each other!” They did, the process of unclothing the other eliciting a mild state of reoccurring arousal, but in the end they were blessedly spent and required sleep. At least for the moment.

  WINTERS IN DERBYSHIRE TENDED to be harsher and longer than in Hertfordshire. In the days immediately following the ball, the weather turned threatening: ominous clouds gathered and persisted unabated for weeks, occasionally disbursing sheets of rain or snow. Those brief episodes when the sky cleared were grabbed expeditiously. After the Masque, life in the region settled into a protracted period of waiting. For the younger and more society-craving citizens, it was an agony of boring days and nights passed in impatient endurance until the spring thaw permitted the mass exodus to London.

  For Lizzy, it was the most blissful period of her life. She had her moments of restlessness when the need to stretch her legs overwhelmed her until she would brave the cold and her husband’s frown for an extended turn about the frozen gardens. Otherwise, she found that each day brought new wonders, numerous activities both at Pemberley and with her new friends, family time, duties and lessons to learn as Mistress, and always overshadowing it all, the love for Darcy that grew daily.

  Until the ninth of January, Lizzy devoted every possible minute to close communion with her aunt and uncle. Darcy and Mr. Lathrop also sensed the need to strengthen their friendship. Lizzy and Amelia became confidantes, a development that greatly pleased the gentlemen. Amelia revealed to Lizzy and Violet that she had recently confirmed she was with child. The two women were ecstatic for her, Lizzy plying her with questions and Violet offering words of wisdom. Tentative plans were laid to meet in Town during the coming May, if Amelia’s pregnancy allowed.

  On the evening of the eighth, the day before their guests were to depart, the Darcys hosted the dinner party that Darcy had impulsively arranged during the Masque. Along with the Lathrops and the Gardiners, there were Gerald and Harriet Vernor, George and Alison Fitzherbert, Rory and Julia Sitwell, Clifton and Chloe Drury, and Albert and Marilyn Hughes.

  Gerald Vernor and Albert Hughes were the two closest friends, dating from Darcy’s youth. These three, along with Richard Fitzwilliam and George Wickham, had been nearly inseparable when young. Darcy and Hughes were avid billiards players and, by the tender age of seventeen, had so mastered the game that no one in all of Derbyshire could supplant them as the county’s champions. Darcy, Vernor, and the future Col. Fitzwilliam had in common a passion for horses. Wickham was younger than the other boys and had shadowed them more than anything, although they had honestly considered him a friend until he went wild as a young man at University.

  Rory Sitwell had become acquainted with Darcy at Cambridge. Neither man had met the other before, so it was a pleasant coincidence to establish a mutual friendship with someone from home. Sitwell’s personality was similar to Darcy’s and Lathrop’s: reserved, taciturn, serious, dry witted, and aloof. Vernor, Hughes, and Col. Fitzwilliam inclined toward affability, jocularity, and gaiety. They were an odd group by all outward appearances, but like Darcy and Bingley, their opposite natures blended. Among the many traits the men did have in common were moral uprightness and fierce loyalty to their families and community.

  George Fitzherbert and Clifton Drury were well into their late thirties and, although Darcy knew them from town, they were not close friends. Normally Darcy would not have been disposed to invite them to dine at Pemberley; however, Lizzy’s positive impression of their wives had pleased Darcy, so he had happily included them.

  Aside from the apparently confirmed bachelorhood of Col. Fitzwilliam, Darcy was the last to find happiness as a wedded man, an event that may have caused dismay with the young women of Derbyshire but pleased his friends immensely. The natural gulf that had appeared between them at Darcy’s persistent single status while they were married and beginning their families had spawned a faint distress, not that any of them would have acknowledged it.

  All of Darcy’s compatriots had chosen their wives based on affection to one degree or another. None of them was as wealthy as Darcy nor had his responsibilities, yet they too had felt the pressure to marry wisely within the strict dictates of society, and all of them had done so. Therefore, the shock at Darcy, of all people, breaking the mores as he had in marrying Elizabeth Bennet had staggered them.

  Gentlemen may not tend to gossip to the extent that women purportedly do, although this allegation could well be a misrepresentation; however, these men had shared many a baffled conversation regarding their friend’s decision. Now, having been introduced to the new Mrs. Darcy, noting her beauty and grace and decorousness, and observing Darcy’s clear infatuation and joy, their relief and comprehension improved.

  The dinner was a success. With the assistance of Mrs. Reynolds, Lizzy planned a perfect evening. Georgiana had begged to absent herself from the party, an understandable request, and since Mrs. Annesley had returned from her holiday with her family, Georgiana dined with her companion in her chambers. Lizzy had met Mr. and Mrs. Hughes briefly at the Masque. Marilyn Hughes was currently six months into her first pregnancy and had not felt well at the Ball, prompting an early departure. Fortunately, she felt well enough to attend the Darcy dinner party, and Lizzy found her delightful.

  Lizzy entertained the ladies in her parlor after dinner and they all bonded easily. Aunt Gardiner, far older than all the rest and, therefore, with little in common with them, happily sat silently in joy at seeing her niece make new friends. She well remembered how difficult it had been for her to leave her family and intimates as a young bride. Love for one’s husband was of the utmost importance, yet female companionship was also essential.

  In addition, Violet knew that Lizzy would eventually reach a point where her separation from Jane would overwhelm her. Having other young ladies nearby with whom she felt an affinity to comfort her and fill that void was indispensable. She was correct in her assessment. Over the course of time, these women would form deep alliances, sustain and succor each other, offer advice and wisdom, and raise the next generation of Derbyshire citizens to carry on the tradition of friendship and community.

  Lizzy shed several tears over the departure of her aunt and uncle and the Lathrops, but she was comforted first in the knowledge that they would see each other in a few months and then again in Darcy’s arms. Lizzy had insisted that, except for the remains of the Yule log, which by tradition had to be packed away on Twelfth Day, all the other decorations stay up until after the guests departed.

  Therefore, no sooner had quiet descended on the manor and Georgiana retreated to her pianoforte than Elizabeth purposefully grasped her husband’s hand and fulfilled her vow by leading him to each hanging mistletoe globe for a kiss. They managed to keep all proper and chaste until the third floor. By the time they reached the last ball dangling just outside their sitting room door, the twenty-fourth not counting the Darcy kissing bough, the individual kisses had evolved into a ceaseless passionate one that persisted well into the bedchamber and beyond.

  They spent the entire day in their chambers together, both desperately needing the time together after the crush of visitors over the past fortnight. Darcy was amply content to embrace settling into the lon
g winter at Pemberley without too many social or business pressures. The occasional dinner party or hunt or dance or afternoon at billiards would be interspersed with the necessary forays to the mills or stables or tenant farms, but winter in Derbyshire effectively cast a stasis over all occupations.

  In the past, Darcy had heartily succumbed to the season for the afforded joy of hours spent reading in the library, long rides, catching up on delayed projects, and blessed solitude. This year he would have all that with the added favor of sharing it with his wife, not to mention the pleasure of lazy hours in their bedroom.

  Despite his newfound delight in showing off his wife at social events, Darcy was primarily a creature craving privacy. His shyness and natural tendency toward reserve would always be a part of his character, no matter the emancipation of his soul. Lizzy, although not the slightest bit shy or reticent, did cherish peace and quiet and solitary pursuits. The young lovers discovered that they were strikingly akin in more ways than they had imagined.

  Darcy truly thought his wife would be fit to rip her hair out after a month of forced imprisonment inside Pemberley’s vast, echoing corridors, and Lizzy honestly thought he would tire of her constant presence in his sanctuaries. They were both astoundingly in error. By the time the spring thaw came, necessitating Darcy’s increased excursions to the farms and Lizzy’s spurred enthusiasm for outdoor activities, they would be so devoted and enslaved to each other that the separations would be agony. Yet for now, they settled in to the peace and leisure of the winter with relish.

  “Fitzwilliam, I have a request.”

  It was mid-January and the Darcys were breakfasting in their sitting room as they always did, except for Sundays before church when they broke fast with Georgiana. Darcy looked up from the newspaper into the serious face of his wife. He smiled. “Ah, ‘Fitzwilliam’ is it? I suppose that dictates the necessity for my undivided attention.”