“How odd. I was under the impression that I had come dashing home to care for you.” He smiled, caressing over her abdomen. “Seriously, Elizabeth, how are you feeling?”
“No pains for the past two days. Well, other than the usual vague ones. He is active and apparently unperturbed by stressing his parents so profoundly.” She swallowed, eyes moistening. “I was very frightened, William. Not so much by the pains themselves, but because you were not here. No one should see him before you. George says he would be fine if born now, but I do not want to take the chance.”
“I concur. We will be cautious and do all he recommends. However, he did make one point we should bear in mind: if our son wishes to come, we cannot prevent it. I do not want his introduction to his parents to be anxiety filled. It will be a joyous welcoming, Elizabeth, replete with enthusiasm, hope, and love.”
“This is why I need you here, my heart, to cheer me up and keep me focused.”
Cosseted for the next two hours, they talked and kissed and nuzzled. The baby responded to his father's persuasion by rolling about and kicking. Lizzy, as Dr. Darcy intimated, was not pleased at the restriction in sexual activity, but she did not argue the logic. The yearning boiled under the surface, but as much as they desired each other, the desire for a healthy child was greater.
Lizzy was allowed to join the family for dinner, walking slowly on Darcy's arm. She felt not the least bit delicate or uncomfortable, frankly more concerned by the deepening circles under her husband's eyes, but he insisted she lean on him. It was tempting, but she did not tease him as to what she would do if he collapsed! George presented Darcy with a bottle of thick greenish fluid, which he did not ask the contents of, preferring not to know what bizarre extracts he was forced to imbibe. Whatever it was, his throat was instantly numbed, and the nagging tickle that kept him from attaining a deep sleep disappeared. Additionally, either there was some hidden ingredient that sedated or he was simply wholly depleted because he slept blissfully embracing his wife for twelve hours straight.
The days following Darcy's return passed in calm serenity. None of the four occupants wandered beyond the immediate garden pathways, and hardly even there as the weather was decidedly unpleasant. Lizzy experienced no further contractions of any notable intensity, devotedly drinking the foul-tasting tea four times a day as prescribed. She smothered her natural inclinations and irritation, resting frequently and walking short distances only. In all ways she was the perfectly obedient patient.
Darcy's cough diminished to a rare event of minor duration and strength. He was correct in judging that restful sleep and tranquility would restore his energy and health. The muscle aches and weakness faded rapidly, and the color returned to his cheeks as the duskiness vanished. His pleasure and frank relief at discovering all Pemberley affairs managed competently and completely in his absence was overwhelming. Mr. Keith only had a list of four items that needed to be discussed with the Master. Mr. Daniels sent a small packet containing the unfinished business, none of which were vital, allowing Darcy the time to attend it at his leisure. Slowly life was settling into the typical winter stasis with nothing of vast import looming, even the birth of their child an event to anticipate with nothing but excitement.
Darcy seemed to handle his uncle's interdiction to forsake making love to his wife with equanimity. If Lizzy noted a churning blaze in his eyes from time to time when he thought she was not looking, she said nothing. In truth, Lizzy discovered her sexual desire muted as the baby's weight pressed upon her body and increased her fatigue. At times the romantic feelings would surge, especially in the mornings when she was most rested and her husband traditionally his most amorous.
They slept together, as it was quite simply unthinkable to be apart, but Lizzy wore a gown and Darcy a nightshirt or breeches. The barrier of clothing did not prevent Darcy's desire to any great degree, but it was a tangible reminder for a fuzzy brain to be restrained. Feeling her husband's desire was stimulating to Lizzy as well although her craving was not as pressing. Nevertheless, neither was overly concerned about denied lovemaking as the infant's health was of prime concern. Dr. Darcy did not withdraw the ban, and they knew that each passing day allowed the baby to mature, possibly the difference between life and death. That idea was sobering and effectively squelched passion, even Darcy's.
The Bingleys arrived for a short sojourn to honor Darcy's thirtieth birthday. His wish to completely ignore the day was also ignored, but Lizzy had submitted to his request for a modest celebration. The plan was for nothing more than a private dinner party with a handful of their friends. The gentlemen had tentatively discussed a hunt if the weather permitted.
November the tenth dawned cold with a drizzling rain. No sun was forthcoming to wake the Darcys at the dawn so they slept late. Lizzy stirred first. As usual it was the call of a full bladder that invaded her restful slumber, care taken as she hastily but gently removed herself from Darcy's unconscious grip. He sighed sleepily, garbled something, and rolled to his back.
Lizzy returned from the water closet fully intending on pressing chilled feet against her spouse's shins as she returned to the land of dreams, but she halted at the sight greeting her. It was not at all unusual for her potent husband to wake in some degree of arousal, his morning amorousness generally greeted with delight and openness by an adoring, and fortunate, wife. Today was typical with Darcy asleep on his back, the evidence of his virility not hidden by the covers.
Remembering his first gift to her on the morning of her birthday in May, she smiled lasciviously and crawled under the blankets. Nestling close, she starting with moist kisses along his neck while reaching pointedly under his nightshirt.
Darcy jerked, instantly wide awake with thighs clenching and body rippling. “Elizabeth, what…? Wait, we cannot…”
“We cannot, my lover, but I can. Now lie back, relax, and enjoy.”
Lizzy knew well the extreme gratification to be found in pleasing her husband. The long time without her did not afford him the greatest regulation, but enough to thoroughly enjoy all the wondrous thrills she bestowed upon his body. Lizzy's satisfaction in observing the man she loved so profoundly attaining satisfaction through her manipulation was excessive.
Seconds later, his body yet shuddering and skin ablaze, he pulled her into a sturdy embrace and captured her whole mouth in a penetrating kiss. The satiation achieved was immeasurable yet a mere fragment of the total desire he possessed for his wife. He pressed her harshly into his torso with hands caressing roughly in the need to show her his lingering hunger for her.
“Lizzy. Lord what you do to me!” He moved his hands to her face, panting roughly, and pressed his forehead against hers. For a very long while he held her in silence, his breathing and heartbeat gradually resuming regularity. When he spoke his voice was very deep and gravelly, “I was dreaming of you and I together under the trees. Thank you, my lover, for this morning. It was… you are… unbelievable. As satisfied as I am right now, my heart aches as I cannot return the gesture.”
She halted his words with a long, teasing kiss. “Fitzwilliam, you are truly too wonderful and a bit of a fool. I am abundantly content to give you this gift. You give me so much, endlessly extending yourself in hundreds of ways to please me. I am blessed and exhilarated to have this opportunity to focus only on you. Happy birthday, William.”
Darcy faced his birthday with a broad smile and spring in his step that was noticed by all, especially George Darcy, who in turn leapt to the wrong conclusion and kept a very close eye on Elizabeth. For her part, Lizzy was in a gay mood. She felt wonderful physically despite the consistent nags of advanced pregnancy, was emotionally joyous at the chance to honor her spouse on his special day, and spiritually thrilled by the peace she noted on his face. She was a bit smug about it, too!
The misty rain ceased by noon, the men folk jumping up instantly to take advantage of the break in weather for their hunt. Darcy, Bingley, and George were met by both Vernor men, Albert Hughes, and George Fitzherbert
on the fringes of Pemberley's forest. The Sitwells would be arriving in the afternoon for the dinner party. Unfortunately the Drurys would not be able to attend as Chloe's pregnancy was far advanced and had not been an easy one. Georgiana spent the morning hours with her tutor, allotting Jane and Lizzy a block of time for sisterly companionship.
“Why did it have to rain?” Lizzy asked. She stood in her parlor staring out the window. “Now the walkways are slick and muddy.” She sighed loudly, turning to join her sister on the settee.
Jane smiled. “I have never known you to be inhibited by the weather. Is Mr. Darcy's overprotectiveness wearing off on you?”
“Not completely; however, I must confess that in this instance he is wise. I am ashamed to admit it, but I have discovered a slight unsteadiness at times. All this weight on my poor hip bones, I suppose.” She placed her hands on either side of her belly, smiling ruefully. “It is not worth the risk. Instead I wander up and down the halls where chairs are readily available.” She shrugged.
“Considering the length of Pemberley's halls, it is likely more exercise than if you walked to the rock pond and back.”
“Your tea, Mistress.” Mrs. Reynolds entered with the pot of Dr. Darcy's prescribed brew, Lizzy wincing. “Drink it all this time, Mrs. Darcy. I will be checking. Mrs. Bingley, this is for you.” She sat the pots down onto the table, bobbing a curtsy, and then departing after a pointed glance to her Mistress.
Jane began laughing the moment the door closed. “The fever of safeguarding appears to be contagious.”
“I am carrying the Darcy heir after all.”
“Pish! It is because she cares for you, Lizzy, any fool can see that. By the way, you speak of your weight, but do you remember Angela Harley? Poor dear was enormous. I seriously began to have doubts at the whole concept of matrimony and maternity watching her.” Lizzy was laughing at the recollection. “You, dear sister, are yet svelte in comparison. I do hope I am as fortunate when the time arrives.”
Jane's voice softened and she glanced away, Lizzy watching her with sudden speculation. “Jane, is there something you wish to reveal to me?”
Jane blushed brightly, staring into her lap. “I should say nothing yet, Lizzy, as we are not certain.” She glanced up at Lizzy with a shy smile, continuing, “Oh Lizzy, I have been bursting to tell you! Charles and I may be expecting!”
Lizzy clasped her hands with joy. “Jane! How marvelous! I cannot believe that Mr. Bingley has managed to maintain his calm!”
“We only days ago began to suspect and cannot be certain. Please, Lizzy, say nothing, except to Mr. Darcy of course, but no other. I know you are not the superstitious type, but I do so want to present Charles a child and fear if we speak of it too forcefully it will prove false.”
“Oh Jane, you are so silly! Nonetheless, I understand the necessity in waiting to be sure. I knew it would be lovely having you close. Now our children can grow together as playmates. Oh happy day!”
“Speaking of babies, have you heard from Charlotte?”
“Not for a month or so. In fact I was beginning to worry as I know she was due early this month. Her last letter assured me all was progressing normally. Mama's recent letter mentions nothing, so there must be no news to report or surely Mama would know!”
“Quite uncharitable of you, Lizzy, but I agree that it is true. Your tea is getting cold and you have yet to finish it. Tsk, tsk! Mrs. Reynolds may turn you over her knee. Here, have a scone. That may help the flavor.”
“No, place it amid the curls just above her left ear. Excellent! Absolutely stunning. Once again, Marguerite, you have created a flawless masterpiece.”
“Thank you, sir. With hair such as Mrs. Darcy possesses it is an easy task. I was assuming the amber necklace, madam? Does this meet with your approval?”
Lizzy shrugged. “Perhaps you should ask my personal fashion advisor.”
Both Lizzy and Marguerite looked questioningly to Darcy's reflection in the vanity mirror. “By all means the amber necklace and earrings.”
Marguerite disappeared into the closet, Lizzy gazing at her husband via the mirror. He stood in the doorway of her dressing room, dressed in a spectacular ensemble of dark gray pantaloons and jacket with waistcoat in silvery threaded purple, observing the final preparations of his wife with a happy smile on his lips. Lizzy wore the auburn gown from their renewal ceremony, her hair truly magnificent with a single clip of diamonds now nestled above her left ear.
Marguerite returned with the jewels, Darcy stepping forward to wordlessly take them from her. “I will finish here, Mrs. Oliver. Enjoy your evening with your husband.”
Marguerite curtsied, with a faint rosiness highlighting her pale cheeks, and departed. Moving behind Lizzy, Darcy encircled her slender neck and clasped the necklace in place, fingertips brushing over her skin. He bent to bestow a tiny kiss to the nape of her neck, handing her the earrings and speaking roughly, “Earrings are beyond my expertise. Elizabeth, you are breathtaking. One of the best birthday presents in all my life, sans your bookmark, is the vision of you as you are now.”
His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, Lizzy clipping the earrings on. “Thank you, my love. However, maybe this year's present will please you.” She stood and took his hand, leading into the bedchamber. The wrapped gift sat on the sofa, Lizzy encouraging Darcy to sit and handing it to him. “Happy birthday, William.”
“I will remind you that I requested no gifts.”
“Surely you did not think I would obey such a ridiculous order? Be thankful I did not invite all of Derbyshire to pay homage. After all, it is a remarkably special day, your healthy birth the beginning of the pathway leading you to me. Now open.”
He slowly untied the bow, pulling the wrapping away from the large, flat box. Lizzy was biting nervously on the corner of her lip, Darcy glancing at her with a soft smile. Inside under layers of tissue paper was a framed portrait. Darcy's breath caught and mouth fell open as with trembling fingers he removed the picture.
It was Lizzy dressed in one of his favorite gowns: a satin dress of navy blue with silver trim that beautifully accented her fuller bosom, capped sleeves off the shoulders exposing the creamy lusciousness of her flesh and swanlike neck. She wore his mother's pearl necklace and dainty drop earrings, thick chestnut tresses elaborately coiffed with tiny pearls woven into a strand of curls cascading over her right shoulder and wisps of hair brushing delicately along her temples. The artist had masterfully captured the vibrant sparkle of her eyes, faint twist of bubbling humor on her lush lips, and barely suppressed verve evident in the tilt of her head. The portrait was miniaturized, approximately twelve inches high and eight inches wide, but the realism was so astounding that the image verily leapt off the canvas.
“Elizabeth! It is unbelievable. When did you…? Who…?”
“I confess I deceived you, my love. Many of the afternoons you thought me shopping or visiting Harriet I was sitting for this. I think it good. Do you like it?”
“Good? It is stunning. You are stunning. I am at a loss for words! Thank you, Elizabeth!”
“I thought you could place it on your desk amid the clutter.”
“It may distract me too greatly as the accuracy is remarkable. I will anticipate hearing your voice emerge from the frame. Besides, workmanship such as this deserves a place of honor.”
“It is yours to do with as you wish. However, I did want it where you could view it frequently. Think of it as me watching over you.” She reached to tenderly stroke his cheek, Darcy grasping her hand for a kiss to the palm while yet staring raptly at the painting.
“You know I require no tangible remembrances of you, but I will treasure this always. Yes, you are correct. I will place it on my desk, even clearing some of the mess to denote an esteemed locale. On the left corner, I think.”
“You could remove that hideous statue of the bull.”
“I like that statue! Oh, you are teasing me.” He laughed, bending to kiss her pert lips tenderly and c
aressing her jaw. “Thank you, my dearest love. It is perfect. You never cease to amaze me. I love you, Elizabeth. May I share the painting with our guests?”
“As you wish.”
Lizzy may have ignored his pleading for no gifts, but she did grant his wish for an intimate gathering. Aside from George and Georgiana, no other guests gave gifts. The focus was on fine dining and sedate entertainment. The Sitwells had traveled from their home near Chesterfield, residing at the Hughes's. In lieu of attending, the Drurys had sent best wishes for a joyous birthday.
All were in awe at Lizzy's miniature portrait, praising the artistry and sentiment. Darcy momentarily slipped away from his guests to reverently place it in his study, clearing a corner of the enormous desk with a smile as he imagined all the subsequent days spent at his labors with her beautiful face gazing upon him. He touched the gilded frame, chuckling happily as he freshly acknowledged the vast difference between this birthday and the last versus every other in his entire life. His mother and father, when he was young, had showered him with gifts, prepared his favorite dinner and dessert, and a handful of times in his youth held small parties with his closest friends. Then there were the grief-filled years after his mother died when celebrations of all sorts had practically ceased. His birthdays then were family affairs only with little in the way of gaiety. As he had told Lizzy last year, his adult birthdays had passed virtually with no recognition except for modest gifts from Mrs. Reynolds, Georgiana, and occasionally Richard.
Only once, when he turned two-and-twenty, was there a memory attached: Richard and Stephen Lathrop had conspired and surprised him at White's. The gents there had toasted to his birthday, his health, his prosperity, his future, on and on until the toasts declined to the realm of drinking a shot for his horse, his hair, his teeth, his boots, and so on. All he really remembered after that was waking up the next morning, shockingly actually in his bed at Darcy House, with the headache to beat all headaches. For the successive years he was blessedly content to forego any revelry.
My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey into Love Everlasting tds-3 Page 32