“Do not trouble yourself, Mrs. Darcy. I plan to disarrange you again as soon as the next opportunity presents itself.”
She blushed, shaking her head. “What a smug, disagreeable sort of man I have married. I cannot say I was not warned, but I defended you, sir.” She thrust the ermine-edged pelisse at him. “Hold this and hand me down, please, Mr. Darcy.”
Once she was standing on the gravel, and still blocking the view of her with his body, Darcy helped her into her coat. It was wrinkled, and Elizabeth fussed at smoothing it over her figure.
Darcy leaned to her ear. “I would dearly love to assist you, but to do so would cause a sensation with the locals.”
“Silly man,” she murmured in return. “You are too complacent by half.”
The look in her eyes bespoke an affection her words could not belie. Darcy smiled before whispering, “If you hope to check my vanity, Elizabeth, you will need to cease looking at my mouth as if you wish me to kiss you.” He breathed the words with some warmth of feeling.
“Oh!”
Now thoroughly delighted with having discomfited her completely, Darcy took her hand and said, “Your father mentioned there was something for our drivers in the picnic hamper. Let us see.”
Together they stepped to the rear of the coach where a storage compartment revealed the wicker picnic hamper. Darcy unfastened the leather straps, and on top of the foodstuffs and serving ware was an envelope addressed in Mr. Bennet’s hand, “To Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Darcy opened the missive and read aloud, “My dear Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.” (Elizabeth chuckled. How he must have loved writing that.) “Within you will find, in addition to comestibles that I hope will be most pleasing and welcome to you, hand pasties filled with a savoury concoction known to warm the hands and spirits. These are enough for your driver, footman, and the four outriders with you, and are packed in the centre of this hamper in the hope they may retain some heat from the Longbourn oven. Pray distribute them straightaway when you reach the inn where you plan to break your journey.”
Elizabeth began unpacking the hamper, and came to a package wrapped in parchment that was, indeed, still a little warm. “How like my dear father.” She smiled as she opened the wrapping.
Darcy took the package, and called the men together, “Hodges! Sam! Here, these are for you with compliments from my bride’s father. Sam, there is one for each of the riders.” The outriders heard the call, and came back to take their share. All six men turned and tipped their hats to the new Mrs. Darcy.
Elizabeth repacked the hamper. Darcy lifted it out of the storage chest, and placed it inside the carriage. “Do you mind, Mrs. Darcy, if we eat once we are started again? I had not planned to stop for longer than to rest and water the horses, although now…” His eyes finished the message as his words trailed away.
Recognising his meaning, Elizabeth took a nervous breath. “I shall just freshen myself in the wash room, and perhaps have a drink of something cool.”
Darcy left her briefly at the door of the inn, returning to the driver. He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, turning him away from Elizabeth. The driver nodded at whatever was said, and Darcy rejoined Elizabeth with a smile on his face.
“What are you about?” she whispered. “You look like the cat who stole the cream.”
Darcy feigned alarm. “It is not my intention to steal anything. Well, perhaps a few kisses and another foray into your bodice.” His voice was quietly insinuating.
Once inside the inn, Darcy and Elizabeth were led to a private sitting room with a blazing fireplace and a washroom door to one side. Elizabeth entered it directly.
There was a mirror over the basin of fresh water, and Elizabeth looked at herself carefully. I do not look any different, but I do feel different, she thought, squinting at herself in the poorly silvered glass. There were several reasonably clean-looking hand cloths hanging from the front of the washstand, and Elizabeth dabbed one in the water and unhooked the high-necked pelisse to cool her throat before opening the garment to its hem. She took a lavender sachet from her pocket and inhaled the soothing scent.
Darcy was near the sitting room door when she emerged and looked at him in query. His dark eyes smouldered into hers as he pulled the bolt on the door, locking it. He saw her cheeks grow rosy. It is so delightfully easy to make her blush.
“Is married life all you had hoped it might be so far?” he asked, taking her hand with merriment in his eyes and leading her to the settee in front of the fire. “If not, I can have the carriage take you back to your father. It is not, in truth, too late.”
“Oh, I fear it is far too late for me, Mr. Darcy,” she laughed in return. “I do not understand what magic is in your touch, but I intend to discover the source.” She sat, and she was surprised when Darcy knelt on the floor before her.
“Surely, you must know it for love, Elizabeth.” He pulled the blue pelisse from her shoulders, causing her breathing to deepen. “You might find the room too warm with that heavy coat.” The garment was drawn down her shoulders and arms. He watched her bosom and detected hard points form under the satin.
Elizabeth licked her lips as she fixed her eyes upon his. She tucked up a corner of her lower lip absently, and pulled her arms free.
“Now…” Darcy’s hands moved to the seven tiny buttons of her gown. “I sincerely hope your trousseau does not include too many of these cruel little buttons.” He broke their gaze to attend to his work.
“But the carriage… They may call for us at any moment.”
Darcy looked sly, but kept to his task. “It is our carriage, Elizabeth. It will not leave without us. We will continue our journey whenever we choose.” But there is one journey I wish to continue here.
Under his hands, he felt the sharp rise and fall of her chest. Once the buttons were conquered but before drawing the garment open, he again looked into her eyes. For a brief moment, he feared she would stop him. Her mouth opened, but she did not speak. Her eyes flitted from his gaze to his lips. Elizabeth speechless…how novel.
He leaned to kiss her, pulling the halves of her gown’s outer layer apart, and cradled her breasts as their lips met. He was glad his mouth dampened the sound from her throat, a mix of surprise and welcome that he found utterly disarming.
Elizabeth met his kiss with equal passion, and seemed to delight in teasing his mouth with her tongue. One hand toyed with his ear while the other caressed his cheek. She pulled away only long enough to whisper, “May I touch your hair, Fitzwilliam?”
“Of course. Whatever you wish. Anything.”
Her hands grasped his curls, and she stroked his head in a way that made him wonder whether this was a desire of long standing.
He deepened their kiss.
With each movement of their mouths, Elizabeth emitted breathless sounds that further enflamed Darcy until his breathing was no steadier than hers. He leaned his forehead against hers. “My aunt was correct. With practice you have become a true proficient.”
“I do not think we could ever hope to find an instance where she would be less pleased to be found useful.” Her voice was husky in a way Darcy had not heard before. It pleased him.
At last the longing to see her became too great and he sat back upon his haunches. Her breasts were held in netting embroidered with leaves, the same as the over skirt of her gown. Her gathered peaks were rosy brown, and the remembrance of rouged nipples in a gentlemen’s club in Brussels fled before the present natural reality.
The colour of her cheeks spread to her chest. “This is… I am so… Your staring is most ungentlemanly.”
He pulled her forward with one arm, while massaging a breast with his other hand. “Surely you do not mean it, Lizzy. Perhaps what you truly intend to say is that you grant me permission to kiss you here.” He was rolling a nipple between his fingers, and it tightened to a point.
She gasped as his hands embraced her back. She cried out rather loudly at the connection of his mouth to her bre
ast. He planted several kisses around one peak, each time touching the tip of his tongue to her skin.
When she wriggled as if to escape, he looked up. “It is too much,” she whispered.
“Is it unpleasant?”
She paused, as if considering. “Not exactly…”
“Let me continue whilst you deliberate. Take your time. If my attention does not comfort you, I will never do it again.”
“Well… er…” she was sputtering until he lapped at a nipple briefly before it was pulled into his mouth. She moaned.
Darcy mindlessly moved from one breast to the other, and Elizabeth wrapped her hands around his head. Her fingers were embedded in his hair, and she held his head against her with such fierce determination that he could only move from side to side. As he suckled, he made low guttural noises of which he was not aware, but Elizabeth responded with coos and murmurs of encouragement.
Without conscious direction, one of Darcy’s hands left her back and reached for her ankle. Upon realising what he had done, he began a wary ascent. As he cuddled and tasted her bosom, she had begun to writhe subtly, inching forward on the cushioned seat. The thought of lowering the fall of his trousers and sliding her onto his ready member was momentary, quickly banished to the future, when they had been united many times and she would expect it.
When the pressure of his touch reached her garter, Elizabeth hissed, “Fitzwilliam! Where is your hand?”
Diverted, he looked up from her body into her alarmed eyes. His dimples deepened as he suppressed a grin. “Both of my hands are at the ends of my wrists, my love, precisely where I left them. Of which do you inquire? This one?” He made a circle with his thumb over one nipple. “Or this one?” He moved his hand to the bare skin above her stocking.
Her lips parted, and she momentarily was caught unaware before saying, “Surely this cannot be proper.”
“We are married. We are in a private room. We are quiet, for the most part. What is improper?”
“Your touch. Your mouth. You are trying to seduce me. I have married a rake.”
“Nonsense. You have married a man anxious to please you. Or have you decided something is uncomfortable? What would you have me cease doing, exactly?”
“Oh…” She frowned a little. “I cannot think clearly.”
“It appears that your thoughts are making you unsettled. I suggest you cease all thinking at once, unless you care to ponder where my hands are and what they are doing. I love you. Dwell on that if it is more acceptable, but I own I would prefer you concentrate on your present feelings.”
When she only sighed, his lips again lowered to her breast. He continued to suckle as his hand reached the joining of her silky thighs. Her heat led him onward, and he tenderly moved a thumb and finger into the coarse damp curls between her legs.
Her hand at the back of his neck struggled under his collar, and he felt the prickles of her nails in his skin. Her breast was pushed more deeply into his mouth. “Yes, oh, yes,” Elizabeth murmured.
Darcy moved his finger to her threshold. He inserted it to the first joint, and was pleased to hear Elizabeth’s responding “Oh!” of surprise, then “Ooooh…” of pleasure. He eased the finger further as his thumb found the firm hot rise of sensate flesh where he might bring her some relief. If she will allow herself… If she will allow me.
A choked sob erupted from her throat. He felt a frisson shake her. Her thighs clamped together, pinning his hand in place. He opened his eyes to see the skin of her chest blotching with red, and the portion of her breast in his mouth seemed to expand. A deeper tremble began where his thumb pressed her, though she seemed to fight it.
Suddenly she was entirely aquiver and sobbing his name, or what sounded like his name, at his ear. With surprising strength, she lifted his face to her mouth and covered his eyes with feverish kisses. After several moments, when his thumb ceased its taunting, she stilled. He smoothed her skirt and embraced her.
Elizabeth pulled her head back and looked into his face. He was smiling as he watched the focus of those expressive eyes return to him from wherever it was she seemed to have gone. “So you have taken me after all?” she whispered.
His smile broadened. “No, dearest Lizzy, not really, not yet…”
She started to argue, but he wrapped her in a more crushing hug before sneaking a glance at his hand, assuring himself there was no blood on his fingers. He was relieved. Perhaps what would happen in the evening would not hurt her so much as he feared.
“But I felt… Oh my word…” She could not articulate what she felt. “What have you done to me? What manner of man have I married?”
Darcy grew serious. He pulled away, realising that, during their frenzy, the drawstring of the mesh bodice had come untied, and her breasts were bare. He was not aware of when or how it happened. He pulled the ribbons together, attempting to put her costume to rights as he spoke. “You have married a man who puts your happiness above all things. Upon reflection, I hope you will find what has just happened pleasurable, and you will grant me your favours as often as may be.”
“I granted you favours? But I am not taken?”
“The instrument for that purpose remained in my trousers. It was my finger.”
“I thought… I was led to expect discomfort, pain even.” She relieved him of the burden of buttoning her bodice as they spoke.
“You will find a considerable difference in size…”
“Is there?”
She sounded incredulous, but Darcy looked suspiciously into her eyes and saw them sparkle with mischief.
Elizabeth looked rather arch. “If you do say it yourself.”
Darcy blushed. They both laughed.
He stood and raised Elizabeth to her feet. “I think it is time to return to our carriage, Mrs. Darcy.”
“They must be wondering what takes us so long.”
Darcy smirked. “I do not think they wonder at all. Everyone knows it is our wedding day.”
Elizabeth became distressed. “I told you this was improper! Do they think we…?”
Darcy chuckled indulgently. “Your hair is perfect, there is no bed in the room, and there is no other evidence. A keen observer may detect a glimmer of new wisdom in your eyes, but I do not intend to let anyone near you. Whatever is suspected, nothing can be proved. Let us ignore any speculations.”
“Is this the fastidious, grim-visaged, sanctimonious Mr. Darcy?”
“No. This is the jubilant, impulsive, newly married Mr. Darcy.” He bowed over her hand, turning it to kiss her palm. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Darcy. I look forward to knowing you better.”
***
Darcy handed Elizabeth into the carriage. They positioned the hamper of food between their feet. Elizabeth wrapped the lap robe around her legs and removed her shoes. She picked up her father’s letter. “We have not read all of it.”
“Elizabeth, are you not hungry?” Darcy asked. “You ate little earlier.”
“I am famished, sir! Are you not?” She held the letter with one hand and rummaged through the offerings with another. “Father writes, ‘I expect neither of you ate sufficiently, if at all, at your breakfast. Enclosed I believe you will find some of your favourite foods, and I hope they will sustain you through your journey, as once you reach London, you may again find yourselves too agitated to eat properly. Nothing worthwhile is ever accomplished on an empty stomach.’” Darcy and Elizabeth looked at each other like naughty children and laughed. “‘There is a cold roast pheasant, which I know both of you prefer to chicken, and there is a cask of fresh cider for Lizzy. This reminds me to let you know, Mr. Darcy, that Lizzy has been known to partake of turned cider, an event that provided no little amusement when she was twelve years of age and about which I shall tell you at some later time.’ Oh! I must read ahead with some censorship, or you will know all the family secrets!” She laughed again as Darcy snatched the letter from her hand.
He continued reading, after swallowing a bit
e of pheasant and crusty bread. “This becomes more interesting! ‘There is cheddar for Lizzy, and our cook makes a fine loaf of bread with wheat from our fields. You will find late apples from the Lucases’ trees, which I hope have not gone mealy, but if they have, Lizzy will enjoy feeding them to the horses when next you stop. You cannot use it now, but there is a canister of tea, the kind Lizzy prefers, provided to the family by the Gardiners. You might be warned, Mr. Darcy: Lizzy likes her tea the way most of us like our coffee—black and thick as tar with nothing added. Please warn your kitchen staff thereof. Lastly, Mr. Darcy, do not read this next to Lizzy’—Well I cannot stop now; you will hear it, Elizabeth—‘you will find a half dozen jars of Lizzy’s favourite strawberry jam. Hide it if you can and dole it out to her only when she has been very well behaved or has been exceedingly clever in company.’”
Elizabeth was laughing too enthusiastically to eat.
Darcy continued, “‘Our cook will not reveal the recipe of this jam, but it does have a magical effect upon our Lizzy and makes her sweet, tractable, and eager to please if given in small amounts. Perhaps one of your cooks at Pemberley can assay the contents and reproduce it for you, but in the meantime, do not leave her alone with it or she will dose herself insensible.’”
They were laughing loudly enough to cause the driver and footman to look at each other with raised brows. “Never heard the master laugh like that a’fore,” Hodges muttered to Sam, shaking his head at the wonder of the sound.
“‘If your Pemberley staff do unlock the secret, instruct them never to make as much of it as Lizzy will order, as you do not want her tending to fat. I assure you, this jam is her one weakness…’” Darcy regarded his new wife with a raised eyebrow and gazed fondly at her bosom. “Oh, I think I may have discovered another.”
“How sad to learn the two most beloved men in my life are conspiring against me.” Elizabeth caught the corner of her lower lip to suppress a smile.
“Let me see… oh yes, ‘…this jam is her one weakness, but remember, sir, with great knowledge comes great responsibility. With love and prayers for a safe journey, T. Bennet.’ This is unprecedented, Elizabeth; I do not know a father who loves a daughter more.” He leaned across the food spread on the seat between them and kissed her. “Perhaps you will give me a few daughters?”
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