“I insist on it!” she stated with a nod, the blush still staining her cheeks, despite her firm words.
Standing up, Darcy offered her his arm to lead her upstairs.
*
Elizabeth scowled at the door that connected her suite of rooms to her husband’s. Between both suites was a small living room that they sometimes used for breakfast or tea when they wanted to have some privacy. Just like she sometimes used her boudoir to avoid being available to guests and have a bit more privacy than she would have downstairs in the drawing room or in her official office.
She’d already undressed and dismissed her maid Julie. Her hair was down and the only things she wore right now were her slippers and nightgown. Even the bed was turned down and just waiting for her. And Darcy,
Elizabeth knew that Darcy would come to her once he’d had his bath and was ready. He’d said as much and he always kept his word. Yet, her patience was running short and she wanted to be with her husband. Now!
Biting her lower lip, she gazed around her own luxurious bedroom. At first, she’d been surprised that she would have her own bedroom with a spacious dressing room and boudoir attached. Her parents had shared a room. On the other hand, her friend Charlotte had had her own bedroom, something that had taken Elizabeth a bit by surprise as the parsonage wasn’t very big. Yet, she’d understood her friend’s desire to spend as little time as possible with Mr. Collins. Especially once she herself had experienced what it meant to share a bed with her husband.
It had taken some getting used to, although there had been a few days where she’d been grateful for having her own room and being able to ask him to stay away. Something he’d been willing to grant her, once he understood the nature of the request.
Elizabeth sighed, turning her attention back to the door. Patience, she told herself. Patience was all it took. He would come. Darcy always came to her. Ever since they’d been married, he’d spend most nights in her bed. Except, of course, when she’d asked him not to.
Her scowl deepened while she glanced at the elegant clock Darcy had only recently gifted her with. It was a lovely piece but right now she was tempted to cast it out of the window as the arms were barely moving.
Maybe he’d fallen asleep in his bathtub? He had looked exhausted. Maybe, instead of expecting him to join her, she should grant him a night of rest before making demands?
On the other hand, Darcy’s eyes had been full of heat and hunger during supper and even more so once he’d escorted her upstairs before they’d parted ways. He’d all but promised that he would come. But maybe… she hesitated, glancing at the door. Maybe she could go to him? Was there a reason to wait? Of course, Roberts, Darcy’s valet, might be a barrier she would have to vanquish. He guarded her husband’s rooms and his privacy rather fiercely. But she knew how to make him cave to her whim.
She considered the matter once more then nodded. Her mind made up, Elizabeth picked up her dressing gown and slipped into it. Fetching a candle, she opened the door to the small room that connected her bedroom to her husband’s. Determined, she marched across the room and opened the door that led into Darcy’s suite.
Although Elizabeth had never been in Darcy’s rooms, she didn’t stop to look around and instead headed for the door that led to Darcy’s dressing room. She knew from the things Darcy had mentioned that his suite had the same layout as hers with the living-room serving as the center. Like two mirrored sides.
But before she could enter, the door opened and Roberts came out. He stopped and stared at her, clearly startled by her presence.
“Mrs. Darcy!” he exclaimed. His mouth opened but no further words came out.
“Roberts,” she said softly. “I have come to see my husband.”
“But…” He glanced back at the dressing room. “Mr. Darcy is still in the bath, Mrs. Darcy. Maybe if you head back to your rooms? I’m sure he will come to you once he’s finished.”
She could see that her presence discomforted him. He shifted nervously in place and frowned helplessly at her. “Please, Mrs. Darcy?”
At some other time she might have followed his suggestion, but right now she wasn’t so inclined.
“I can assure you that this is a surprise Mr. Darcy will like. He won’t object to my presence. Yet, should he do, something I doubt very much, I will bear all the blame,” she told him. “It was been six weeks since I saw my husband last. Please move out of my way.”
He visibly hesitated, his sense of decorum and etiquette challenged and clearly battling with his more caring, even romantic side. Roberts had been with Darcy since he had first entered adulthood and took his duties very seriously. Something Elizabeth was keenly aware of. Just like Darcy did. But he also needed to learn that there was now a mistress in Pemberley and she was going to do things her own way. Including coming to see her husband in his rooms.
For a long moment he stared at her, but finally he bowed lightly and stepped away.
“Mrs. Darcy.”
“Thank you, Roberts. You can retire now. We won’t need you for the rest of the night.”
He pursed his mouth but nodded and withdrew.
Elizabeth exhaled. Somehow she’d expected more of a confrontation but she was glad that Roberts had capitulated so quickly. She breathed in deeply then headed into Darcy’s dressing room. The thought of her husband in his bathtub was teasing at her mind.
*
Darcy sighed at the feeling of being surrounded by warm water and closed his eyes. The bath had been an excellent idea. He would have to thank Elizabeth again. Her thoughtfulness was much appreciated.
He allowed the heat to ease his tight muscles while he listened to the soft noises the servants made around him. He could hear Roberts’ deep voice murmuring something and strained his ears. The other man spoke too softly though, so that he was unable to make out any words.
Dismissing his curiosity, Darcy instead turned his attention back to thoughts of his Elizabeth. He was grateful that Georgiana was visiting friends. It would allow him to concentrate fully on his wife without being distracted by having to pay attention to his sister as well.
He sat up and reached for the washcloth and soap, freezing when a familiar hand forestalled him. He looked up and startled when he saw Elizabeth kneeling next to the bathtub.
She was watching him with her sweet, playful smile while she lathered up the washcloth. Her audacity surprised and delighted him. A glance around the room showed him that all the other servants, including Roberts, had disappeared and she was the only in the room with him.
His body tightened at the realization. Elizabeth was here, in his dressing room. She’d never before been in his rooms. He always came to her and spent the night in her bed. Since they’d been married, Darcy had scarcely slept in his own bed, preferring to join his wife. That had also been his plan for tonight. A bath and, once he was clean and dry, he’d planned to go in search of Elizabeth and spent a good portion of the night making love to her.
Yet, here she was. Instead of having to search her out, she’d come to him. His brave and daring wife.
He watched silently while Elizabeth started to run the washcloth up his arm. Her touch was gentler than his valet’s and aroused his body in ways his valet’s touch never had. Which was a good thing. It was also a good thing that he was sitting in his tub and that the water hid his body’s reaction.
Elizabeth seemed to be focused completely on washing him. She ran the soapy cloth over his arms, his shoulders and chest. Once in a while she added a tad more water and more soap.
Darcy watched her with rapt attention. She often accused him of staring at her but how could he not watch her all the time. Her bright eyes and her teasing, gentle smile that always spoke of joy and amusement. Her hair was down, falling is soft waves around her face, tempting him to bury his hands and face into it. He loved to feel its softness and to wind strands of it around his fingers.
“You are staring again,” Elisabeth whispered, leaning in as if she was s
haring a secret with him.
“I know,” he said, keeping his voice low, as if he was inviting that secret.
She glanced up and laughed softly. “Really, Mr. Darcy,” she mocked gently.
“I blame my wife, Mrs. Darcy. It’s entirely her fault as she has enchanted me and now holds me under her spell. How can I but stare at her and bask in her presence?”
Elizabeth froze and looked at him with wide eyes then she shook her head and went back to washing him. For once, her usual wit seemed to have deserted her while a charming glow once more infused her cheeks and brightened her eyes even more. Darcy was thoroughly transfixed by the reaction and the fact that he could make his spirited wife blush this easily.
“What happened to Roberts?” Darcy chanced to ask in a valid attempt to change the topic of conversation but also full of curiosity as he knew his valet’s sense of decorum only too well. Robert would have been scandalized when Elizabeth sought entry into her husband’s rooms. How had she managed to get past him?
Elizabeth looked up, her wit returned and her eyes once more dancing with mirth. “I told him that he could retire for the night. Maybe Mrs. Reynolds will pour him some brandy and offer him a sympathetic shoulder? Could that ease his mind?”
Darcy chuckled. “I doubt it. You, beloved, are also evading my question.”
“Am I? Far be it from me.”
“So?”
“Roberts and I have reached an agreement.”
“Should I not be informed of said agreement?” he wondered, more to himself than as a question to her.
“No,” Elizabeth said curtly then her hand with the washcloth dove underneath the waterline and wrapped around his hard length. Darcy groaned at the feeling and bucked into her touch. While away, he’d tried to refrain from laying hands on himself—not always very successfully—and was now eager for her touch and embrace.
When he’d first taken her to bed she’d been shy and nervous but soon her inquisitive nature had come to the forefront again and she’d taken great delight in exploring all the joys the marriage bed offered to her. And to him.
Still, having her make the first move and touch him without impunity was new. Not that he minded too much. Her strength and independence had been among the things that had attracted him to her from the beginning. If he’d wanted a complacent and meek wife, he wouldn’t have chosen Elizabeth Bennet.
“You, Mrs. Darcy, are trying to distract me,” Darcy grumbled, yet didn’t try to remove her hand from his erection or to stop her ministrations.
“Indeed I am. Is it working?” Elizabeth asked, smiling at him with sweet inquisitiveness while she stroked him.
“Very well,” he groaned and bucked into her. “Too well maybe.”
She just laughed and continued her ministrations, doing her level best to drive him to distraction.
“You’re getting wet,” he murmured, eying the spreading stains on her dressing gown and trying to get his thoughts away from the building pleasure in his groin. He didn’t want to spill like this. He wanted to be joined with his wife and have her shudder around him in shared delight.
She glanced down at her dressing gown and widened her eyes in mock surprise at the dark, wet spots in the pale green fabric. “Oh dear. Maybe I should take it off before I ruin it?”
It might have sounded like a question but the way her eyes danced told him it was an invitation.
He inclined his head and pretended to give that question serious consideration.
“It might be a wise idea,” he finally offered. “You wouldn’t want to ruin the muslin and be forced to order a new one.”
He actually shuddered; remembering the last time the dressmaker descended on Pemberley and had taken over the breakfast parlor and drawing room while Elizabeth and Georgiana discussed fabrics, ribbons, flowers, colors, and designs with her. Bonnets and shoes had also been part of the discussion. He’d done the prudent thing and retreated to the library and later outside for a lengthy ride along Pemberley’s ground. Not that it had helped much as conversation during dinner and supper had centered on dresses and the latest fashion in London. It was an experience he would rather avoid making again.
Elizabeth hummed thoughtfully while she lightly rubbed one of the dark spots. One that was placed almost directly over her breast.
Darcy’s eyes were riveted on that spot and he had to force himself to swallow down a moan. He wanted to order her to take it off but he knew that she would balk at any order. Even more so when she was intent on teasing him.
Finally, Elizabeth seemed to have made up her mind and jumped to her feet. Darcy watched in surprised appreciation as she kicked off her slippers and then undid the sash that kept her dressing gown closed. Underneath, she only wore a simple night shift. The thin fabric clung to her curves and hinted at all the delights that were hidden by the cloth. Darcy could see the faint, rose-colored outline of her nipples and the dark triangle between her legs that protected her most secret and sensitive place.
Darcy hoped that she would continue, but instead Elizabeth came back to his side and once more reached for the washcloth.
“That should do, don’t you agree?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes and a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
Yet, before she could pick up the soap, he surged out of the water and reached for her, easily capturing her, even when she tried to dance away. He grabbed her and lifted her up until she had no choice than to wrap her arms and legs around him. Her eyes were bright and when she laughed softly, he kissed her. She uttered a soft moan and kissed him back, welcoming him wholly in her embrace.
When they parted after that first heated kiss she leaned in for another one and Darcy willingly indulged her. Deciding that it was time to move things to the bedroom, Darcy carried her in that direction.
He hesitated briefly when he realized that he was in his own bedroom and not in hers. With an internal shrug, he continued on. While it was expected that he would always come to her, there wasn’t really any reason why they couldn’t use his bedroom as well.
Luckily, Roberts had left a few candles burning so that he was able to navigate.
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth exclaimed in a voice full of mock outrage that barely managed to hide the laughter bubbling up. “Unhand me immediately. You are still wet!”
“So? I will dry. As for the other matter…” Darcy carefully lowered her on his bed. “Never, my love. I have captured you fair and square and you are mine now.”
He took a moment to look at her stretched out on his bed, her eyes bright and her chest heaving. She was so beautiful and she was truly his. His Elizabeth. His wonderful wife. Some days he could scarcely believe that they’d managed to come together despite their earlier miscommunication and misconceptions.
Darcy leaned down to kiss her again, enjoying the way her lips parted for his questing tongue while she shifted underneath him and wrapped her arms around him, dragging him down on the bed as well. He went willingly.
This was what he’d missed during all those lonely nights while he was alone in his townhouse in London. Holding Elizabeth close. Tasting her. Having her at his side and in his arms.
Despite the feeling of urgency to claim and possess, Darcy forced himself to go slow. He leaned in for another kiss, feeling her tremble in his arms even while she surged into the kiss and pulled him closer.
*
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her husband, holding him close. He was always so conscious and considerate about crushing her, not realizing just how much she enjoyed feeling him on top of her. She loved the way his weight pushed her down into the mattress and how highly aware it made her of his size and strength.
She shivered when his hands slipped under her night shirt and traveled up the length of her thighs, taking the fabric with them. She arched her back so that he could push the fabric higher and finally lifted her arms, allowing Darcy to pull it off completely. She laughed while he simply threw her nightgown to the side. It sailed thr
ough the air until it landed on the floor.
Finally, they were skin to skin. Elizabeth wrapped one of her legs around Darcy’s hip and reached up to cup his face, pulling him down for another kiss. Ever since they’d been married, she’d learned just how much she enjoyed kissing him. It was one of her greatest pleasure and tonight she fully intended to indulge herself. Six weeks without the chance of kissing him had just been too long. She ached for him.
Darcy seemed to feel the same way, as he devoured her mouth with a matching hunger. They kissed until her head was spinning. Her lips felt swollen and tender when Darcy released her but with a noise of protest, she pulled him back, wanting more kisses. The evidence of his own arousal was pressing against her stomach and Elizabeth ached to feel it inside her. The flesh between her legs felt hot and wet at the same time, throbbing demandingly.
She moaned when Darcy cupped her breasts in his strong hands and ran his thumbs gently over her nipples. The pleasure he was able to coax from her body with a simply touch still surprised and awed Elizabeth. She hadn’t really known what would await her on her wedding night. Her mother had been extremely vague about the whole matter and what happened between husband and wife. Luckily, Charlotte had been a bit more open although not very enthusiastic or positive. But then it was somewhat difficult to imagine Mr. Collins as an attentive or generous lover.
Elizabeth sighed and arched her neck when Darcy began to trail kisses down the line of her throat. His lips seemed to leave a trail of fire behind. A fire that spread through her body and filled her with a shivery, liquid heat that centered between her legs and deep in her core.
Darcy moved lower. There was the faintest rasp of stubble. A sensation that made her shiver and gasp. Her nipples tightened even more. By now they were so hard that they almost ached.
Elizabeth groaned when Darcy’s lips closed around one of her hard nubs. She arched up, moaning and trembling when he gently blew on the wet, pebbled flesh.
Pemberley Tales Page 2