An Engaging Friendship

by AmyJ

"What would the servants think if I left my new bride to find her own way to break her fast?"

  Elizabeth's tinkling laugh echoed through the halls, instantly sending Darcy's pulse racing. It was going to be a long day, and he was not in full control of his faculties.

  Last night had been difficult. She was sleeping in the next room, and he had a door that led directly to her. He had spent most of the night staring at that wooden barrier, torturing himself. What she looked like with her hair down?

  Did she or her maid brush her hair out? Was it as soft as it appeared? What she looked like sleeping? Did she sleep with a night cap, or just a simple plait? Did she sleep on one of the bed as he did? Or did she prefer the middle?

  If that were not enough, when he was finally touched by Hypnos, he had the

  disappointment of waking alone after a particularly sensuous dream.

  Now he faced the greatest temptation of all; the living, breathing, laughing, smiling teasing siren, herself.

  He needed coffee, and lots of it.

  With only Elizabeth and Darcy about, breakfast was a casual affair. Darcy read the day's paper aloud, and the two discussed the various articles.

  When he came to the announcements, he set the paper in front of Elizabeth

  with a grin, pointing to the particular column. There it was in black and white.

  Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn had married Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley.

  By noon, all of London would know of it.

  "It appears, sir, you are quite stuck with me," Elizabeth teased, uncertain of what else to say.

  "And you with me."

  "But I have it on good authority that there is none your equal in calmness of manner and presence of mind. So I can have no cause to repine."

  Recognizing her reference to a conversation had long ago with Miss Bingley, Darcy replied, "I am sorry, Elizabeth. Bingley..." He sighed heavily. "It was my fault. I should not have invited Bingley."

  "I had not thought her capable of such..." she searched for a suitable but genteel word. Not finding one, she simply scowled.

  "The audacity!" Darcy growled. "She shall never be welcomed into any of my homes again!" His chest heaved in anger.

  "Fitzwilliam, that will be impossible if you are to remain friends with Mr.

  Bingley. Miss Bingley will resign herself to our marriage soon enough. I am only glad Mr. Bingley's presence did not upset Jane overly much." Silence descended between the two before Elizabeth changed the subject. "Are you certain Lord Blakeslee has no intentions towards Jane?" At Darcy's raised brow, she mentioned how frequently she had seen Jane and Lord Blakeslee

  together at the wedding breakfast.

  "I am certain," Darcy said. Seeing Elizabeth required an explanation, he added,

  "I spoke with Wesley the other night, and he assured me he has no intentions towards your sister, and she has no expectations of his addresses."

  "How does he know what Jane expects?" Her voice steadily rose in pitch. "Did he ask her? Or did he simply assume? Men can..." She bit her tongue before she said something spiteful.

  Darcy rolled his eyes. It was supposed to be their honeymoon. The last he wanted to discuss was someone else's marriage prospects, especially when it upset his wife. "Elizabeth, can we please not discuss this now? Wesley did not give me any details. I was content to know your sister would not be injured."

  With a pointed look he added, "We agreed not to interfere."

  It took a minute for Elizabeth to calm, but when she did, she apologized.

  Not long after, a footman entered, announcing the carriage was ready for their departure. Elizabeth spent a few more minutes with the house staff reiterating the plans for their return to London, while Darcy gathered a few last minute papers from his study.

  Before most of London had finished their morning meal, the Darcy carriage

  was rolling out of London, headed for the peaks of the north.

  The first day of their journey passed with relative calm. There was a light rain that seemingly followed them from London, but as they had planned leisurely travel, it was no cause for concern.

  The gloomy weather, in concert with the usual boredom that came with travel, and his restless night, however, made it difficult for Darcy to remain awake.

  Elizabeth seemed perfectly content to read, so Darcy made himself comfortable and was soon fast asleep.

  Essentially alone, Elizabeth removed her bonnet and gloves. She had never

  enjoyed the restriction of bonnets, and it was a bit warm for her travel gloves.

  For a while she contented herself with a book but soon found a more pleasant subject in the form of her slumbering husband.

  Unabashedly, she watched him, admiring the deep ridge of his brow, strong jaw line, and broad chest that rose and fell with each breath. In his sleep, his brow and mouth relaxed, giving him an almost boyish appearance.

  She could not help watching his lips twitch, and her thoughts easily turned to wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by them. Feeling a flush taking over, she returned her attention to her book.

  Darcy woke some time later to the sound of muffled giggles. After taking a

  moment to gauge his surroundings, he bolted upright. Next to him sat

  Elizabeth, with her nose literally buried in her book.

  "A fine travel companion I have turned out to be," he said dryly.

  "On the contrary, sir! I was well entertained." At Darcy's wide eyes, she had to touch her lips with her hand, to keep her laughter at bay.

  "What did I do?" He was uncertain if he wanted to know the answer.

  "Did you have a pleasant dream?" She looked away, her hand clamped tightly over her lips, as another burst of laughter threatened.

  "I... I... do not recall. Was I... talking in my sleep? What did I say?" He honestly did not recall any dreams, but feared the worst.

  "I could not make most of it out. I heard what I believe was Li'l Beth and Pemberley." Unable to contain her mirth any longer, she laughed out loud at Darcy's stricken look. "What ever it was, it must have been very exhausting, for there were other murmurs and noises that I could not decipher."

  Darcy blanched. He had a very good idea of what his dream entailed, even if Elizabeth did not. At least his tongue had not completely betrayed him, even if it seemed the rest of his body was determined to do so. "I do not remember my dream," he said with credible remorse. Then, desperate for a change of subject, he looked out the window. "How long before we stop?"

  After throwing a decided pout, Elizabeth shrugged. "Perhaps another twenty minutes."

  Darcy nodded and adjusted his clothing.

  The rest of the day passed with relative ease. Darcy was determined not repeat his mistake and found all manner of ways to pass the time; from conversation, to reading, to watching the passing country side. He even allowed Elizabeth to teach him how to sort and wind embroidery silks to keep them from being

  tangled. His fingers were not nearly as adept as her, but it seemed to amuse her to watch him, and it kept his mind off other, fantastical thoughts.

  They ended the day's journey at a large, but well-equipped, inn. After a

  satisfying meal, they retired to separate rooms.

  The second day proved very similar to the first. Their destination at the end of the day would be the Lion and Rose Inn in Northamptonshire. They could have made a late arrival at Pemberley that day, with efficient stops, but they both agreed it would be more prudent, for both themselves and the horses, to hold to a more sedate pace.

  When they set out that morning, there was plenty of conversation to be had.

  However, as the monotony of the ride carried on, their lively discourse ended.

  Neither had slept particularly well the previous night, their thoughts more occupied with the course of their marriage as friends. Not only that, but the exhaustion from the flurry of activities of the previous week caught up with the both of them. Stuck within the confines of a carriage, it
was no surprise that both Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves nodding off.

  After yesterday's mortification however, Darcy was determined not to sleep

  until Elizabeth did. He glanced over at her figure leaning heavily against the side of the carriage. Every few minutes she would shift, trying to find a

  comfortable position. Her head rolled back and forth in rhythm with the

  rocking of the carriage. He wished he would have had the foresight to stow a

  pillow or two for her. Better yet, he could cradle her head against his shoulder, if only they had a different understanding.

  A rut in the road jostled the carriage, causing Elizabeth to bump her head and Darcy to cringe. He looked around the space for a makeshift pillow, but found nothing. There were a few rugs, but those were stowed away under the seat; he would have to wake her to get to them.

  With nothing else to do, he settled into the opposite corner of the carriage for a short nap.

  Just as he was nodding off, there was another bump in the road, this time a larger one. Darcy winced as his head bounced off the carriage wall. This was unacceptable. If things continued, they would both arrive at their destination with a tremendous headache, if not something worse.

  He sat up and looked over at Elizabeth. She was moving about, trying to find a comfortable position, but appeared to be still sleeping.

  The third bump put an end to his patience. "Elizabeth," he said softly. When she did not respond, he took her arm and pulled her towards him. Let her be angry with him, he reasoned, at least she would be unharmed.

  The feel of his hand around her arm, caught her attention. "Fitzwilliam?" she asked sleepily.

  "Rest your head against my shoulder, Elizabeth, and go back to sleep. I can not watch your head bounce off the carriage wall again." She hesitated for a minute and then obliged.

  At first, she maintained a rigid pose, her head making only cursory contact arm. She had never been so familiar with any man. She breathed in deeply,

  smelling that musky scent that was his and a warm flush flowed through her.

  She wanted nothing more than to nuzzle deeper into him and have him put his arms around her, but she could never be so bold.

  She tried to relax against him, but found it difficult. All of her senses were now stirred. Not only that but she was uncertain where to put her hands. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but could not; that was the privilege of a lover.

  Uncertain of what else to do with them, she did her best to fold her hands

  together in her lap.

  Darcy felt her shift and struggle to get comfortable again, all while keeping his eyes glued to her hands. When she appeared to be once again asleep, he gave in to his desires and took one of them in his, letting the other remain limp against her body. They had both long ago discarded their gloves, and the feel of her skin against his was almost his undoing.

  Her hands were so soft, so smooth, and so small in his. His eyes roved from her hand, up her arm, until resting on her lips. If her hands were this soft, he could only imagine what her lips felt like.

  His lips twitched, but before he gave further into temptation, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

  Sometime later, feeling a disruption in the usual motion of the carriage, Darcy woke. A bit disoriented, he was confused at the weight on his chest. He looked down and what he saw caused his breath to hitch. Somehow, through the

  course of travel, Elizabeth had come to lie fully against him; her entire body was pressed against his. Her hands were folded together, tucked under her chin, as if she was praying, and she was gently sucking on her bottom lip.

  He closed his eyes again, fighting the moan in his chest that begged to be

  released. If they could remain like this for all eternity, he would be content. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her, but was too scared she would awaken. Instead, he did nothing, simply savouring the feeling of her body

  against his. It was heaven.

  Seeing the signs of a town nearing, he knew they were near the next stop. He needed to wake her. Should Elizabeth discover their position, she would no

  doubt be mortified. Yet he still could not rouse her. His body was on fire, every inch of him wanting all of her.

  Unable to resist, he placed the softest of kisses in her hair and then forced himself to think of other things. One more minute, he told himself, just another minute, then he would wake her. Unfortunately, each time he looked down at

  her, his passion would be aroused once again and he would have to start over.

  It therefore took several minutes, and every ounce of self control, before he could call himself a gentleman. With that monumental task completed, he

  worked to wake Elizabeth.

  Gently, he shifted to a more upright position. As she began to stir he said,

  "Elizabeth. We will be stopping soon." Unfortunately, she did not respond as he expected. Instead of waking, she nestled deeper into him, murmuring, and a

  small smile peaked out.

  Darcy threw his head back against the seat, suppressed the groan in his throat.

  Why did she have to be so damn tempting? Before he found himself once again in an unfit state, he said louder. "Elizabeth, wake up."

  She shifted again, but this time, her arms went around his waist, hugging him tightly. "Mmmm..." she murmured. Again, she nuzzled deeper into him. "Little longer."

  His head was spinning, and his breathing was became laboured. It was

  everything he wanted; Elizabeth clinging to him, wanting to be held by him a little longer. Is it possible? Do I dare to dream? Will she remember this when she wakes?

  He felt the carriage come to a stop, and began to panic. In just another moment, the doors would open and they would be in plain view of others. He needed to remedy the situation! He could not allow her to be embarrassed.

  As the carriage door was not in his line of sight, he heard, more than saw the door open. "Close it!" he hissed. Immediately, the door closed again.

  For better or for worse, his command woke Elizabeth. She bolted upright and looked around a little bewildered.

  Without thinking, Darcy said, "Forgive me, my sweet. I did not mean to startle you." When Elizabeth said nothing, he added, "We have stopped. I thought you would like a moment to straighten up."

  "Oh." She uttered. She had not missed the endearment he used. Unsure of what it meant though, she feigned ignorance and grabbed her bonnet. Then, after

  putting a few curls back into pins, and adjusting her white cap, she donned it.

  She took her gloves from Darcy and after putting them on, turned towards him.

  "Do I look all right?"

  Darcy smiled. You are lovely, he wanted to say. "You look fine."

  They exited the carriage, and after some lemonade, took stroll to stretch their legs. Though conversation was rarely lacking between them, this walk was

  done in silence; each of them lost in their own thoughts.

  Darcy was committing to memory those few moments of bliss. The feel of her

  skin, the rhythm of her respiration, the way she looked while she slept, and the weight of her body pressing against him. He would definitely be reliving those moments later tonight.

  Elizabeth's thoughts were turned in another direction, mainly confusion. Darcy had not seemed disturbed by their position in the carriage, as she had expected him to be, and then he had called her "my sweet". Was it possible he felt some affection for her? If so, why had he not said anything? Or perhaps the

  endearment was a slip -- after all, he had often called Georgiana that -- and he simply had not said anything about his performance as her pillow, not wishing to embarrass her. Satisfied with that explanation, she interrupted the silence.

  "Shall the warm weather harm the crops?"

  Darcy startled, but then shook his head. "No, not if we get enough rain." He looked up at the sky; it was blue without a cloud in sight.

&n
bsp; They continued their walk a bit longer in silence, until it was time to return the carriage.

  The final day of their journey, Elizabeth could hardly sit still. If all went well, they would have the mid-day meal at Pemberley.

  Darcy smiled at her child-like anticipation. "Sit still Elizabeth or you shall rock the carriage right off the road."

  "I am not fidgeting."

  He looked down towards her feet that were incessantly tapping on the floor of the carriage and rolled his eyes. "Is there anything in particular you should like to do this afternoon?"

  Though many things came to mind, she simply smiled. "Will you not be

  required to meet with your steward?"

  Disappointed at her eagerness to be rid of his company, Darcy nodded. "I do, but it can wait until tomorrow."

  Elizabeth brightened. "The clouds are white. I would love to go for a stroll by the stream. The path and bridge are still present?"

  Darcy nodded pleased. "They are. Very well, after lunch, we shall reacquaint you with the grounds. A good long walk will be refreshing after so much time in the carriage."

  As they neared Lambton, Darcy pointed it out to Elizabeth, increasing her

  excitement that continued to bubble to the surface. Though she did her best to maintain a serene air, she could not keep her head from turning to and fro, taking in the familiar town.

  A few minutes later, the carriage came to rest. Darcy leaned over and pointed out the window to the stone house. "Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy," he whispered.

  Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat as his breath tickled her neck and ear.

  "Pemberley" she said, almost reverently.

  A moment later, the carriage was rolling down the hill towards the house.

  As they approached, a line of uniformed servants could be seen. Near the head of the line stood the butler, Mr. Andrews, and an older lady, Elizabeth knew to be Mrs. Reynolds.

  Darcy handed down his wife and together they greeted the butler and

  housekeeper. Then, taking Elizabeth by the hand, he led her to the middle of the line. "May I present, Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

  They all cheered.

  Mrs. Reynolds chatted with the couple as she accompanied them to their suites.

  Before entering, Elizabeth threw her arms around Mrs. Reynolds. "It is very good to see you again."