Love Calls Again

by Lucianne Elsworth

  Darcy sighed and clasping his hands behind his back, proceeded to search his mind for a suitable answer for his friend.

  "Bingley. 'Tis universally acknowledged that a woman neglected by her husband will always have men on the watch to soothe and flatter her. Besides, the forlorn state of a neglected woman, not destitute of personal charms, is particularly interesting, and… rouses that species of pity, which is so near akin, it easily slides into love. In other words, your marriage felicity is at stake."

  Mr Darcy had nothing more to say on the subject. Perplexed as he was by his friend's absolute innocence, which was well nigh moronic, he could not help being mystified as to the extent of Mrs Bingley's endurance. Jane might truly be a real angel; still no woman made of flesh could bear such treatment from a husband without ending up in the temptation of more passionate arms, as he very well knew. And that principle was not to be found in the Book of Prayers. He made a gesture of sorrowful sympathy, and eyeing Bingley so as to make a deep impression on his mind, he finally said:

  " 'Coitus interruptus'. That is the Latin word. 'Withdrawal' in plain English terms. Find it in a biology book or something."

  He was then "interrupted" by a flushed and apologetic Jane.

  "Mr Darcy! I am so sorry. I know not how to apologise. 'Tis the first time the children have had men to play with, other than Charles. They are simply overexcited with their new uncles."

  "Indeed, ma'am. I perfectly comprehend. There is nothing to apologise about."

  Elizabeth, who was coming from behind Jane, laughed at him.

  "Mr Darcy is all politeness."

  "Indeed, he is, he is," said Jane with a smug smile on her face.

  "The children have declared their uncle Darcy the centre of their affection. Are you not exceedingly delighted, Mr Darcy?" teased Elizabeth.

  "Indeed, I am. I should remember to bring more shirts to discard, just in case. As a matter of fact, I was on my way to get changed. If you will excuse me, ladies." And with decided steps he climbed the stairs for his bedchamber, both ladies following his retiring with a mixture of longing and admiration.

  Twenty-Nine

  —

  A Treatise on Connubial Bliss

  Elizabeth was delighted to see Darcy laugh at himself. He was such a different man in moments like these. She wished she could capture them for later contemplation. He was so handsome when he smiled!

  Jane had also noticed Mr Darcy's different demeanour. That her future brother was a very handsome man she already knew. And also very amiable. Still, she had never thought him to be paternal. She reckoned he had been generous and honourable; belatedly she had discovered his passionate layer (who would have thought, so taciturn, so remote). Yet, this side of Mr Darcy was compleatly new intelligence for her. An adorable, tender man, full of sympathy for the little ones, ready to endure the very things her husband had always avoided.

  Her younger sister was very lucky, indeed.

  Elizabeth's mind was engaged on more mortifying thoughts: Mr Darcy's expectation of starting a family. She was not a young girl by now. Already six and twenty, she was on the verge of reaching when most women usually stopped being with child. Fear of miscarriages or even the risk the mother's life would undergo were the usual reasons for a lady to be not older than five and twenty for her first confinement. Will she be able to bear his children?

  He obviously liked them. No men of her acquaintance, not even Charles Bingley, had Elizabeth ever witnessed being so solicitous of them. And the attention was certainly reciprocated. Bingley's toddler daughter and twin babies usually felt ill at ease with strangers. And Master Charles, who was barely three, had never been in the company of a grown-up gentleman other than his father or grandpa. Ever since Fitzwilliam Darcy had set foot on Netherfield Park the day before, the three children had been seeking his company and his arms as if he were the most capable of nannies. Later that day, Elizabeth even found him, in a pristine shirt once more, visiting the nursery himself. Their conversation went as follows:

  "Mr Darcy. Is it possible you are seeking your revenge?"

  "Not at all. I merely enjoy observing them."

  "I am glad to find you in so tender a circumstance. It is always reassuring to discover that one's fiancé is so inclined to domesticities such as these."

  "I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. My whole intention here was merely that of the observer. Far be it from me to attend to a child's needs. I am simply not fit for that. Still, I find the whimsicalities of the little ones absolutely irresistible. Just look at their manner of walking. They offer the most hilarious performance around. Do you not agree?"

  "And you cannot resist a good laugh, can you?"

  "Indeed I cannot. These are among the human follies I can indulge myself in all good conscience without fear of self-reproach."

  "So I see."

  "I only hope one day I will have such an indulgence in my own house. What say you? Would you like to co-operate with my musing?" he asked her while he approached her, his voice suddenly deep and sensual.

  "Indeed," she answered with a blush, yet her countenance showed signs of distress.

  They left the nursery and commenced to walk in the direction of the drawing room, where the others awaited.

  "Elizabeth. You do like children, do you not?"

  "I do, sir. I like them quite a great deal."

  He turned on his heels and faced her. Taking both her hands in his, he endeavoured to say something. At first he found it difficult to utter the first words, such was the importance of his question. Finally, his voice spoke with vehemence.

  "Do you wish for our own children, Elizabeth?"

  "Aye, sir. With all my heart."

  "So do I. Ever since I met you I have imagined our children."

  "Our children?"

  "Indeed. Very early in our acquaintance, whenever I pictured the heir of Pemberley, his mother would be you."

  "Me, sir?"

  "No other woman would have done for the mother of my heir, none other than you."

  "Sir, this a revelation, indeed." After a pause it was only natural that she ask the following question. "Sir. Since you have such an inclination for the little ones, I fail to comprehend why you… You must excuse me for my impertinence."

  "Pray, continue."

  "Why do you not have children?"

  "Anne never wished for children."

  "Indeed! Why would she not have them?"

  "Her health was obviously the deterrent. Had she tried to bear my child, she would have probably had a miscarriage or found her death even sooner."

  "I see."

  "Elizabeth, I must confess something to you."

  "What is it, sir?"

  "Not here. Let us have a turn outside. Would you join me for a walk in the garden?"

  She gladly accepted and soon they were outside, walking, hand in hand, enjoying the playful sun on their countenances.

  It was a beautiful day, and they wandered about in the garden, with no particular aim, till they found themselves at the door of the orangery. When they reached some wilderness close to the greenhouse, he halted and asked her to join him under the shadow of a tall tree. She noticed he was struggling to find the words to say something, his embarrassing shyness overcoming his senses.

  "What is it, sir?"

  "Elizabeth. Much as it pains me to have this conversation with you so close to our nuptials, I am afraid I have no other choice but to speak about it. You must understand that the intimate nature of the topic has forced me to keep it in concealment. Yet, you are to be my wedded wife, therefore, you have the right to know the circumstances in which I, as your husband, am entering into our marriage arrangement."

  "Sir, I understand. Yet you need not worry. I do not find it necessary to know about your past life."

  "Quite the contrary. It is of the greatest importance that you should be acquainted with every detail of my life. Especially, this side of my life."

  "Well then. What have you to say?"


  "I have just told you about Anne's reasons for avoiding pregnancy. Well, not only did she refuse to bear my children, but she also refused to lay in bed with me."

  Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she unconsciously let out a gasp.

  "Elizabeth, you must understand I am not ignorant of the mechanisms of intercourse between a husband and a wife, yet I am afraid the only experience I have in those quarters has been shared with… you."

  "Gracious Lord, Darcy! 'Tis amazing!"

  "Shocking you mean."

  "Shocking, yes. I mean, no. Not shocking in a negative manner. 'Tis merely unexpected. Do you mean you have never…?"

  "Yes. 'Tis exactly my meaning. I have never kissed any other than you, or lain with any other than you."

  "But you have never…"

  "Never."

  "Yet you know what to do?" she asked, a bit concerned.

  Her distress was cause for his diversion. He chuckled and was happy to answer.

  "Indeed I know, Ma'am. I am a Cambridge man, remember?

  "So, they teach such things there?"

  "Not exactly. But there are very good sources to which a man can resort. Indeed, I am a living treatise on the subject."

  "Which sources may I ask?"

  "You would be surprised."

  "Well then?"

  "I promise I shall enlighten you in due course."

  "I see."

  "You do not believe me?"

  "Pray, do not misunderstand me. All this time I have supposed you were some kind of expert and yet…"

  "Do not get me wrong, ma'am. I am no school boy."

  Therefore, to give her proof of his meaning, he grabbed her in his arms and bestowed an ardent kiss on her lips, his whole weight leaning onto her, pinning her to the trunk of the tree. His lips abandoned hers to become engaged with her graceful neck. Immediately, his hungry hands cupped her breast in a direct endeavour to show her his abilities. Obviously, all the talking of connubial practices had unconsciously awakened the contained forces of passion Mr Darcy had so zealously repressed until then.

  When he finished his lesson, Elizabeth was panting for breath as if she had just run a race against a hound. Her whole face scarlet, eyes tightly closed, lips parted, she was the picture of wantonness.

  "Well, what have we got here?"

  "Sir, did you do that purposely?"

  "What do you think I am? Some kind of satyr?" he breathed into her ear while he nuzzled that sensitive part of hers behind her earlobe.

  "Well, I must confess you behaved like one."

  "Did I? I am awfully sorry, dear ma'am," he said innocently. "My sole intention was to soothe your mind showing you my humble abilities to bestow pleasure upon you."

  "Sir, I am well aware of your abilities to bestow pleasure upon me."

  "I am sorry. I know not what you are talking of. I suppose you will have to enlighten me."

  "Enlighten you, sir?" she asked archly.

  "Indeed. You are at an advantage."

  "How so?"

  "Well, you do remember what happened in the orangery?"

  "Very well."

  "You must know that, if I kissed you whilst we were in that closure, then that would be my first kiss, the first time I ever kissed a woman in my whole life."

  Elizabeth blushed profoundly. "Sir, do not tease me so."

  "Nay, Elizabeth. I am saying it in earnest. My very first kiss, bestowed upon your beautiful lips."

  He came closer and kissed her on the lips again. Then, his tongue gently brushed his own lips as if he were trying to retain her flavour in his mouth.

  Elizabeth, still savouring his taste and yet puzzled by his disclosure, continued to interrogate him as regards his expertise in amorous exertions. "Not even your wife?"

  Darcy looked pensive as if trying to recollect any other instance in his life apart from the one he found impossible to tell her of. "Well, Anne kissed me once, but I did not reciprocate, so it does not count."

  "Darcy. I cannot believe you."

  "I am afraid I shall demand your enlightenment, Elizabeth. It is no good that an important memory such as this would be denied to me. Would you be so despicable as to refuse me the intelligence?"

  "I think we had better turn around."

  "Ma'am. Are you afraid of me?" he teased her.

  "I am not afraid of you."

  "Well then?"

  "Sir, I think it will be unwise to isolate ourselves. You know it is. We had better go back to the house."

  "I suppose you are right. Still, I cannot go before I kiss you once more." He approached her in a tentative manner, and kissed her again. When she closed her eyes to receive the kiss, he lifted her in his arms, and took her towards their secret place. He opened the door, and in they went, no time for her to even gasp in surprise.

  Still in his arms, she somehow protested: "Sir. You are not behaving."

  "Do you wish me to behave?" he said teasingly. She did not answer him, merely smiled sheepishly. "Hm?" he asked, whilst bestowing wet kisses on her neck.

  "Indeed, sir. You made me a promise, remember?"

  "Say no more, madam," he said passionately. "All I wish is that you show me. You must show me."

  "What is it that you wish that I show you?" she finally asked a bit unsure of his musing.

  "Well, among other things, our first kiss," he said grinning.

  She knew perfectly well this was a poor excuse. But then again, with their nuptials so close, who was she to deny him this wish?

  She arched an eyebrow in a well known gesture and demanded: "You must release me first."

  Once on the ground, Elizabeth brushed the skirt of her dress with her hands while he, taking some distance, observed her, diverted. She looked around and failed to recognise the place. "I am not sure. It was night time. Everything was much too dark. There was no light."

  "Mmm."

  "Now, this table was over there. And I was here and you… you were like so," she placed his hands on both sides of her waist.

  "And then?"

  "Then you asked me to remove my mask. But first you removed yours." She did a gesture imitating the movement he had made when discarding the mask.

  He lowered his head until he reached her ear, and, biting her earlobe, he breathed, "How did you feel then?"

  "I was trembling, sir. You were so very tempting." He noticed she was quivering in his arms, her body always responsive to his caresses.

  "Was I?" he asked, smiling broadly, so self-satisfied with the power his hands had over her.

  "Indeed, sir. You know you are. You must possess a natural inclination to bestow pleasure upon me, sir. Even now. A terrible temptation for my womanly desires. You must know of the folly of this situation." She brushed her lips on his neck, her hands gently caressing the exposed skin there. He sighed heavily and asked her breathlessly:

  "Tell me what we did afterwards."

  "You asked me permission to hold me."

  He laughed at this intelligence. "How gentlemanly of me! Did you allow me to do so?"

  "Nay, sir. Let us say, I did not fight you when you did."

  "Were you afraid of me?" he asked seriously.

  "Afraid sir? Nay, sir. I was not entirely myself, remember? I was fascinated, like in a trance. Your lips I could not resist. They were approaching mine so slowly. In the end I felt I could die if you did not kiss me."

  "And you fought me not then?"

  "Will you be disappointed to know that I did not?"

  "Good Lord, Elizabeth. I am disappointed I cannot recall any of it. How can I be disappointed with you, my love. You were an innocent. You are an innocent."

  "Innocent, sir?" she asked archly.

  "Indeed we are, my dearest Elizabeth. So innocent that we fell prey to our own desires a second and a third time." He sunk his face into her hair and inhaled deeply the sweet scent, his hands zealously winding around her waist, their bodies becoming closer and closer.

  "Did I kiss you here?" he breathe
d in her ear.

  "Hmm. Very passionately. We ended up against that wall."

  "Great Lord, Elizabeth! This is unbearable. I love you, dearest."

  Thereupon, he pounced on her, kissing her ravenously, unable to contain himself any longer, he brushed his fingers over her breasts, over the fabric of her dress. They ended up against the same wall, his body pushing savagely, reviving the occasion of Twelfth Night. She quivered in delight and let out a deep moan from her throat. Blindly, he found a place to sit and she sat on his lap. Soon, he dipped his face into the depth of her bosom, enjoying the delicacies it offered. Elizabeth tenderly caressed his hair while he entertained himself with her relieved cleavage. Unbeknown to her how, she ended up sitting in a rather compromised position, legs exposed dangling at both sides of Darcy's lap, her dress up to her thighs. Mr Darcy's hand had crept up her dress and was shamelessly caressing her. Elizabeth could feel his pride at its best, gently pulsing against her. Soon, she could bear it no more.

  Eyes full of passion, chest heaving, Darcy stared at her with his darkest look.

  Then, she knew it.

  "Sir, our wedding is but days away." she stammered.

  "Better and better," he said mischievously.

  With a rapid movement, Darcy loosened his breeches and with not much hesitation, he meant to put an end to his suffering, while she was still sitting straddled on his lap.

  The cherry was ripe and ready to be picked.

  Thirty

  —

  Up the Cherry Tree

  The old gardener at Netherfield Park seldom went into the orangery. He usually collected his tools early in the morning and returned them only late in the afternoon when it was time for him to go home. Lately, he had undertaken the task of surrounding the trees along the main path with brand new geraniums he had grown zealously in the warmth of the enclosure the whole winter. Yet, after inspecting his wheelbarrow he noticed he had left some of the bulbs behind on the table in the greenhouse.

  As he approached the orangery, his humming could be heard from some distance. His footsteps on the gravel in the path were audible enough for anyone in the surroundings. Unfortunately, the ardent enterprise that was taking place in the premises had prevented its temporary dwellers from distinguishing any sound till it was too late. Conversely, the gardener very distinguishably detected the presence of what he thought was some animal in the orangery, and thinking a pig had broken into his sanctuary, he endeavoured to make his entrance unnoticed to catch the beast red-handed.