“What have you done to him?” she blurts, all four of them pivoting toward her.
“Oh, Lizzy! How wonderful this is! Mr. Darcy! You have saved us all!” Mrs. Bennet is all atwitter, clutching her hand and gasping. Not wasting time, Lizzy glances to Jane, who smiles serenely and inclines her head toward the east garden.
Sprinting again, barely registering her mother’s continued praise of her conquest, she flies down the steps, following the recently well-trod path to the garden. She slows only when she sees him. He sits on the bench, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, playing with something in his fingers. Her heart literally skips several beats and butterflies dance in her stomach merely at the sight of him.
He looks up, lurching so rapidly to his feet that she thinks he is attempting to leap to her, but he simply stands there staring at her face. The moment stretches as her smile widens.
“It is official. I am all yours.”
The expressions crossing his countenance would be vastly humorous if she did not feel his turmoil. She laughs gaily as they swiftly reduce the gap between them, eventually standing less than a foot apart. He envelops her petite hands with a steadfast grip, face jubilant and awash with liberation. He places her enfolded hands against his throbbing heart and settles his forehead on hers, releasing a mighty sigh.
As delightful as the sensations are, she cannot prevent a giggle escaping. He pulls away a fraction and smiles at her blissful face. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Only a little. Did my frightening father scare you, Mr. Darcy?”
“He can be rather intimidating when he wishes it, Miss Elizabeth, and as he held my entire future happiness in his hands, I am not ashamed to confess being overcome with tremendous fear.”
“I shall have to tell him. I doubt my father has frightened anyone in his entire life! He will be amused.”
“How pleased I am to be a fount of amusement for the Bennet household. I believe I have also adequately supplied the daily portion of entertainment for your mother and sisters.”
She bursts out laughing. “Poor William! Mr. Darcy, who hates to be teased, has received his allotment today.”
Releasing one hand to finger the loose strands of hair away from her eyes and smiling unabashedly, he replies, “I suppose I should be chagrined, but I find that teasing does not annoy me as much as it once did. Levity appears to have entered my existence along with you, dear Elizabeth, and it heals me.”
She continues to giggle. “So, are you better now? Your heart continues to pound.”
“I judge my heart shall forever pound when near you.” His voice deepens an octave and tender fingers trace over her features, darkened eyes following. “Elizabeth,” in barely a whisper, “you are incredibly beautiful. I so love and adore you. I am the happiest of men.”
Giggles cease. She is breathless and mesmerized, captured by his eyes and the renewed thrills racing through her body at his touch. His eyes and fingertips have reached her parted lips, feathering lightly. Panting breathlessly, voice nearly inaudible, she pleads, “William.”
“Elizabeth, please, may I kiss you?”
Unable to speak, she only nods faintly. As if in a dream of exquisite beauty with gazes riveted, he lowers his head slowly while cupping her face with his strong yet tender hands. Thumbs caress her cheeks and their eyes slide shut with the gentle pressure of mouths brushing once, then again and again and again.
Are there words adequate to describe what is indescribable? Their kisses are restrained, pure, and delicate; yet the sensations educed are torrential, dynamic, and astonishing. Simultaneous shivers and sighs of pleasure escape their lips and they laugh softly, twinkling eyes meeting.
“Is it supposed to feel so… incredible?”
He smiles and shakes his head minutely. “I would not know, but I believe it should.” Without another word he claims her mouth again, kissing with gradually increasing fervor, hands traveling to her neck for soothing strokes.
Of their own volition, her hands begin tentatively exploring the muscular contours of his chest and shoulders, moving up to encircle his bare neck with fingers entwined in his hair. Her lips instinctively part and, in a rush of primal need, he deepens the kiss, moaning faintly when she responds hesitantly in kind. It is sheer ecstasy! The warmth and moisture and intimacy of this manner of kissing beyond anything either of them has ever experienced.
Leaving her luscious mouth, he plants moist kisses all about her face. He kisses the top of her head, inhaling deeply of the lavender scent in her lush hair that he began associating with her months ago. Intoxicated beyond the effect of a fine wine, he rains soft kisses along her scalp to her ear and then to the sensitive flesh behind her lobe. He moans her name, utterly lost to love and rising passion and gently drawing her earlobe between his lips while his hands caress over her arms and then to her upper back, unwittingly pulling her closer to his body. Returning to her open, receptive mouth, he ardently pours his very soul into this rapturous expression of their mutual love and craving. She matches each motion, responding to him with greater boldness that escalates rapidly to a wild abandon.
She groans loudly, unconsciously pressing her entire body tightly against his, arms over his shoulders and clutching his back and head with alarming power. Cold reality crashes over him with the awareness of his marked physical arousal, evident to them both as indicative of the strict line he has allowed himself to cross. Utterly mortified and shamed, he clasps her shoulders and frantically pulls away.
Unable to meet her eyes, agonizing at the reproach and horror he expects and deserves to see there, he hoarsely stammers, “Elizabeth… Miss Elizabeth, I beg your forgiveness! My behavior is ungentlemanly and unforgivable. Please, accept my heartfelt apology.”
She is confused and dazed with strange but pleasant currents racing through her, her heart fluttering so alarmingly that she is light-headed. Feeling bereft at the sudden abandonment of his warmth, she stutters, “I… I am so sorry… I thought you wanted to… I should not have…” Shy and insecure for the first time since encountering him that day, tears well in her eyes and she hangs her head to avoid his gaze.
For a few moments they stand there not touching, breathing heavily, and collecting their befuddled thoughts.
“What you must think of me…” she mutters.
“Can you forgive me, my love… ?” he blurts at the same instant.
“Forgive you… what?” she asks in surprise.
“Whatever do you mean, ‘think of you?’” again speaking over each other.
“I behaved so wantonly…”
“I lost control of myself…”
Halting mid-sentence, they stare at each other. Slowly she begins to smile and laugh quietly. He watches her in perplexity, flushing and then gradually lifting his lips in amusement as her laugh deepens.
“She is laughing at me again.”
“On the contrary, I am laughing at us! Mr. Darcy, let me see if I understand this: you are apologizing for enjoying kissing me, your betrothed, while I am apologizing for responding to said kisses?” He nods, flushing brighter. “Therefore, in effect, we are apologizing for being in love?”
He opens his mouth and then snaps it closed, glancing away from her enchanting face. “It does seem rather ludicrous when you state it thusly.” He looks at her, countenance serious, and clasps her hands. “Elizabeth, you surely understand that it is not merely the enjoyment of our love that concerns me, but the appropriateness of its expression before we are wed. It is shockingly improper for us to even discuss these matters, let alone experience them!”
She bites the corner of her lip and averts her gaze. “William, I appreciate your concern, although I submit that little about our relationship has been proper or appropriate, and yet here we are. You are correct, of course, in maintaining decorum until we are married, but…”
“Elizabeth, please, I…” he begins, but she interrupts with a fierce, teary stare.
“Mr. Darcy, I will not apo
logize for communicating openly with you! Nor will I hide my love for you. We have done far too much of both, nearly losing each other in our stupidity, misconceptions, and pride.”
He studies her eyes, grinning happily. “You are amazing, Elizabeth, and I love you ardently.” Embracing her comfortingly, he kisses her sweet lips lightly.
“Lizzy!” Jane’s voice calls from the corner of the house. “Luncheon is ready. Mr. Darcy is welcome.”
“Thank you, Jane. We will be in directly.”
Holding each other, he strokes her face and she runs her fingers over his features, smiling happily and wholly content. Another tender kiss and then he pulls away, bringing her hand to his lips. “I shall leave you now, dearest. Extend my gratitude to your mother, but I am not presentable and, frankly, my heightened emotions would render me unfit for polite company. I will return this evening.”
He takes a step to leave, but she grips his hand to halt him. In a burst of enthusiasm, she wraps her free hand around his neck, pulling him toward her as she lifts on her tiptoes, kissing him soundly. When she releases him finally, they are breathless and his eyes are smoldering afresh, having so briefly been restored to a state of calm.
“From here on, I promise to behave as I should and not tempt fate. So, remember these kisses, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and do not doubt my love for you!”
He can only nod as she propels him out of the garden. At the back door, they part with formal salutations and proper hand kisses. She watches him until he is out of sight, and then, with a giddy laugh and a twirling dance, she joins her family.
“Perhaps you should not enter the water, William. Your wound is not fully healed.”
Darcy looked down at the twin scars on his side, still reddened and puckered, but healing well despite him removing the stitches without the physician’s consent and constantly scratching at it. Lizzy was forever slapping his hands and scolding him. The laceration on his chest had mended quickly, a residual fine pale line the only evidence. His bruises had faded rapidly, although his left foot still pained him if he stepped the wrong way. She joked that they were a pair of invalids. He joked that they therefore must each nurse the other with tender loving.
“It is well sealed over and no longer pains me, well, not too terribly that is. Do not fret. Come.” Taking her hand, he led her as they cautiously waded over the rocks to the middle of the pond. At its deepest a mere four-and-a-half feet, the temperate water was blissful. Crouching down, the water rising to mid-chest, he held Lizzy in his arms as they floated leisurely about.
“Oh, this is delightful,” she sighed, lying backwards to float on top of the water. Darcy firmly clasped her waist and thrilled at the sight of her. “I have not done anything like this since I was a small girl. The lake near Longbourn was a favorite haunt on hot summer days. Sadly, when a girl reaches a certain age, it is considered unseemly to play in the water.”
“Yet you did it anyway, am I correct in assuming, Mrs. Darcy?”
She opened her eyes and grinned. “Oh, how well you know me, husband.
Of course I did! My mother nearly fainted each time and insisted my father punish me, which he did not do.” She laughed. “You might remember this and reweigh any wishes for daughters resembling me, beloved. Two or more of us may prove beyond your endurance.”
“Obviously Mrs. Reynolds has been remiss in her duty to regale you with stories of my exploits as a youth, or have not my scars convinced you? My temperament may be serious, but I was reckless. Combine our attributes and, regardless of sex, I imagine we are both doomed to early gray hairs.”
She sat up in his lap, winding her wet arms around his shoulders. “I heard past-tense words in that sentence. In light of recent events, I deem not much has changed in respect to your recklessness.” She kissed him.
Grinning, he declared, “I have been properly chastised for my mischief, may I remind you, and owing to how well you administer spankings, perhaps our children will not be so intolerable after all.”
“Ha! Children, I am to understand, are not supposed to enjoy the spanking.”
“Maybe you need to practice the discipline further. I will be happy to oblige, for the sake of your increased excellence and our children’s upbringing, of course.” He nuzzled her neck, delivering tiny bites.
“Incorrigible! Perhaps we should pray for girls after all.”
“Oh yes, because you, Mrs. Darcy, are all that is sweetness and light!”
Lizzy laughed gaily, hugging her husband close and resting her head on his shoulder as he gently glided about the pond. They bounced along in silent contentment, Lizzy actually beginning to fall into a doze, while Darcy held her and softly kissed any available skin.
The afternoon continued in much the same manner. They bathed until fingers and toes were wrinkled like summer prunes, drying in the filtered sun as they strolled about the glade. Lizzy snipped flowers while Darcy educated her regarding the unique Derbyshire vegetation. Frequent they retired to the blankets for snacks and sips of wine while Darcy read to her. Mainly they talked about anything and nothing, deliriously content to be completely alone for probably the last extended length of time, considering the hectic weeks to come. As the sun sank far below the tops of the towering trees, plunging the grotto into shadow, they made love again. They nestled and lazily kissed until the sun was nearly spent, the dell dark and chilly when they finally rose and dressed.
Lizzy was hesitant to vacate the grotto. No matter how often they revisited this place, and they frequently did over the years, this interlude would be special. She halted at the edge of the trail for a last look around, moving only when Darcy lightly touched her elbow. “Come away, beloved, it is late. We will return in June and have many months to return here.” He kissed her temple and she sighed, finally turning.
THERE ARE LITERALLY HUNDREDS OF people I could thank for making this adventure a reality. Naturally Miss Austen for creating these characters, Deborah Moggach for her fabulous screenplay adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, and Joe Wright for directing the film so brilliantly.
Personally I thank my own Mr. Darcy, who for more than twenty years has shown me what true love is and has further made me a believer by supporting me in this endeavor, no matter how late dinner was placed on the table. And massive hugs to my two fantastic kids for being so patient when Mom was lost at the laptop!
I thank the plethora of readers from my website (www.darcysaga.net) who have endured, inspired, and encouraged me every step of the way. You have made me believe in myself, and I absolutely do not have the words to convey the depth of my appreciation. I love you all! I also want to thank Deb Werksman and everyone at Sourcebooks for believing in me and this story. Last and most important, I must give all praise, glory, and thanks to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He is my ultimate Rock and the Creator of all good things.
Thank you for taking this journey with me. The Darcys thank you as well!
SHARON LATHAN IS A NATIVE Californian currently residing amid the orchards, corn, cotton, and cows in the sunny San Joaquin Valley. She divides her time between being a homemaker nurturing her own Mr. Darcy and two teenage children and working as a registered nurse in a neonatal ICU. Throw in the cat, dog, and a ton of fish to complete the picture. When not at the hospital or attending to the often dreary tasks of homemaking, she is generally found reposing in her comfy recliner with her faithful laptop.
ELIZABETH DARCY STOOD NEXT to Georgiana on the massive portico before the main doors to Pemberley. They were dressed in their traveling clothes, the grandest and plushest of the Darcy carriages parked in the drive, waiting patiently for the Master of Pemberley who was currently speaking with his steward, Mr. Keith.
The warmth of May in Derbyshire had set in full force, days radiant with bright sunshine until late into the evening. The vast gardens of Pemberley were responding as Mr. Clark and his staff diligently engineered with literally every color of the rainbow bursting in nearly eye piercing splendor. Trees of every species indig
enous to England, and many that were not enhanced the landscape with diverse shades of green and leaves in a multitude of shapes and sizes. Lizzy had regained her strength and mobility by traversing the miles of pathways weaving through the varied gardens. The by-product of her wanderings was a familiarity and deepening love of this place that was now her home.
Lizzy dreamily mused at how tremendously she had changed in the nearly five-and-a-half months since she ascended these same stone steps as a nervous bride. Outwardly her entire appearance was drastically altered with gowns and jewels and furs beyond her vaguest imaginings six months ago now normal. Her hair, even in its traveling coif, was superior to anything she had ever fashioned previously. She was largely unaware of it, but there was a serenity and grace to her bearing that had not been present before. She would forever laugh spontaneously and carry a ready quip on her lips, but her character was notably more refined and softened. The minute gestures and vocal intonations associated with the social etiquette of the upper classes had permeated her being unconsciously.
Inwardly she recognized a happiness and contentment that anchored her soul. Although there remained an enormous amount of Pemberley’s management and the Darcy business affairs that she did not understand, her role as Mistress of Pemberley was a comfortable and accepted one. Her place in the household and the community was firm, and her confidence was secure. This massive house, which had frankly frightened her to death initially, was now home. She no longer walked through the endless halls with feelings of paralyzing awe and unworthiness. In five short months she had grown to love the manor and its surrounds with a devotion transcending anything she had ever felt for Longbourn. Already she missed the library and bedchamber and sitting room and…well, all of it! The approximately six to seven weeks of their planned absence stretched before her as an empty sadness despite her excitement to see her family, and it was necessary to exert every ounce of self will to not rush inside for one last glance.
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