Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One
For the afternoon, Lizzy had decided to drive to Matlock for some shopping. Phillips and another footman named Georges attended her. The town of Matlock was larger than Lambton and a mere ten miles further south. Marguerite, who had resided there for the past eight years, had supplied her mistress with a list of the finest shops the town had to offer.
She spent several lovely hours acquiring gifts for her parents, sisters, Charlotte, Georgiana and, of course, William. The funds that Darcy had allotted her were more than adequate for all she wished to purchase. So much so, in fact, that she could never envision spending them all. She even picked up a few odds and ends for the tenants and the servants, and still had a surplus.
Once she was home, dressing for dinner, her aching heart conquered her. Darcy had not yet returned and the loneliness of the long day without his smiles, kisses, tender touch, and lush, masculine voice caught up to her. She wore a new gown, fashionable and of a highly daring style. She chose the sapphires and Marguerite dressed her hair strikingly, permitting several curls to fall over one shoulder.
The sun was setting, casting the gardens into deeper gloom, before Lizzy heard her husband’s unmistakable resonant baritone and firm tread in the hall. Her heart skipped a beat and every ounce of willpower was called forth to forestall her rushing from the room and into his arms. Instead, she sedately strolled out of the parlor where she was lurking to see him hand his coat to a footman and speak with Mr. Keith. He was dusty and windblown with a dark shadow of beard. She smiled brightly, content merely to gaze at him until he finally noticed her in his peripheral vision.
He halted mid-sentence and broke into a beaming grin as his eyes roved over her entire form. The footman disappeared, as they always seemed capable of doing, and Mr. Keith murmured something about discussing these matters on the morrow as he quit the area. Darcy was unaware of it all, paralyzed by the heavenly vision of his wife.
“Mr. Darcy, welcome home.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy, I am happy to be home.” He kissed the hand she offered, slowly and with a decidedly improper caress. He took a step closer to her, peering intently into her eyes. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, “I have missed you and could easily, without the slightest thought to propriety, ravish you this very second.”
Lizzy laughed and tossed her head saucily. “Well then, Mr. Darcy, it is fortunate that I have been far too busy to miss you at all, so my emotions are in check!”
“Not even the tiniest bit, my love?” He teased the tip of his tongue over one palm.
“Perhaps a time or two, husband. So many duties the Mistress of Pemberley must attend to, you see.” Her eyes twinkled but her voice was more than a little shaky.
He smiled and again raked his eyes seductively over her body. “You were not thinking of me when you selected this specific gown, my dearest wife?”
“Do you like it? It is new!” she asked, suddenly sounding more like a giggly teenager as she posed and twirled around, dropping a flirtatious curtsey.
Darcy laughed gaily. “I like it enormously, Mrs. Darcy. I especially admire that there are only these three buttons and one sash keeping it on your body.”
“Shocking, Mr. Darcy! I pray Samuel has drawn a cool bath for you as your temperature appears to be elevated. Shall I accompany you to your dressing room, husband?”
“I am considering the vast number of empty chambers between here and my dressing room, so it would undoubtedly be prudent for you to wait for me in the parlor.” His kiss brushed her cheek briefly but nonetheless sent a thrill through Lizzy’s veins. “I shall not be long, my love.”
Lizzy watched him until he climbed the distant stairs, a naughty gleam that he did not detect sparkling in her fine eyes.
Darcy had finished washing and shaving, a damp towel draped about his shoulders. Samuel was inside the closet retrieving the garments Mr. Darcy had indicated he wished to wear, while Darcy pulled on his trousers.
“Enchanting view, Mr. Darcy. Quite rejuvenating!”
Darcy spun about, his expression of laughable fright and shock rapidly replaced with an expansive smirk. Lizzy had quietly opened the well-oiled door and was only a couple of feet behind her husband, leaning audaciously against the wall. Before either of them could utter a word, poor Samuel exited the closet and, upon spying Elizabeth, he yelped, dropped the clothes onto the floor, blanched, and then blushed scarlet.
Lizzy averted her face, biting her lip to avoid bursting into gales of mirth. Darcy barely glanced at his valet, eyes fixed on his wife. “You may retire, Samuel. Thank you, I no longer require your services.”
Samuel stammered something inaudible and dashed out of the room. Lizzy could contain herself no longer and laughed helplessly. Darcy pinned her to the wall with his arms locked on either side of her waist. “You deserve to be disciplined severely for such behavior, wife. What shall your punishment be?”
“I do not figure that my behavior warrants a reprimand, Mr. Darcy! You started this little game, remember, and I did give you fair warning. If you failed to alert your valet, the fault is entirely yours.” She affected a pout and primly downcast her gaze. “However, if you truly feel that punishment is necessary, I shall be an obedient wife. Your earlier threat of ravishment sounded particularly distasteful. I am sure my lesson would be learned by such chastisement.”
She coyly fluttered her lashes and ran one hand the length of his torso, shoulder to hip. Darcy leaned slowly and enticingly toward her as if to plant a kiss, but then paused mere inches from her upturned lips. “I rather imagine withholding ravishment would be a greater torture, my love. Yes, now that I reflect on the issue, this shall be your penalty.” And with this pronouncement, Darcy withdrew a pace, smiling at his wife’s expression of surprise and thwarted desire.
Darcy’s satisfaction at beating his wife at her own game was short lived, however. When it came to teasing, Darcy might have been learning quickly, but Lizzy was the master. She shrugged her shoulders and studied her fingernails with deep intensity, declaring unconcernedly, “As you wish, husband. I accept my sentence and will now leave you so I may ruminate on my faults and failings. I shall meet you in the dining room properly demure and sober.”
As she concluded her contrived and transparently spurious little speech, she kissed Darcy primly on the cheek yet managed to accidentally brush her breasts against his bare chest and her hand over his nether regions as she turned toward the door.
She had not taken a single step before her wrist was captured in a vise-like grip and she was spun around and again pinned to the wall, this time by her husband’s entire body. Although Lizzy had begun this little game, she was nonetheless taken aback by the lustful response of her husband. Before she could utter one sound, he had claimed her mouth in an ardent kiss, lifted her skirts to her waist, and begun to attack her undergarments with confidence.
Thus far they had always made love lying down in some manner. The positions had varied somewhat, leaving Lizzy constantly amazed at the diverse ways the human body could be manipulated. So naturally she assumed Darcy would take her into the bedchamber or at least fall to the floor here in his dressing room, which frankly is what she had fantasized. Never would she have entertained the concept of him pinning her to the wall and loving her beautifully and intensely right there.
Darcy sank to his knees with Lizzy entwined, time necessary to regain use of weakened muscles. Lizzy slowly planted kisses on his shoulder and neck, moving to his face. He cupped her in trembling hands, tenderly stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “Precious love,” he whispered, “amazing, beautiful, giving.”
She pulled back and smiled at him, his eyes tear filled. She kissed each of his crystal blue eyes and then his lips, murmuring, “Was this another recommendation from those books you forbid me to view?” as she playfully nibbled his lower lip.
He chuckled softly, flushing lightly. “Yes, I confess it is. Your surprise entrance afforded the perfect opportunity. Nonetheless, I am sorry if I startled you. Elizabet
h, my heart, you drive me mad and all reason escapes me!”
Lizzy laughed. “Do you hear me complaining, beloved?”
Needless to say, Darcy did not finish dressing in a timely manner and dinner was kept waiting. Luckily, the kitchen staff was becoming accustomed to these delays so the fine cuisine was served without noticeable deficiency when the Darcys, blushing and smiling and giddy, did arrive.
Later, as every night thus far since coming home to Pemberley, they relaxed in their sitting room. Darcy sat at his desk attending to business correspondence, and Lizzy had the piles of purchased gifts from her excursion to town scattered over the floor as she wrapped them for delivery.
“William,” she said suddenly, “I forgot to tell you of the invitation we received from Sir Cole. He is hosting a Twelfth Night Ball, a masquerade ball.”
Darcy nodded, not looking up from the document he was examining. “Yes, they hold one every year. It has become a standard Derbyshire event. My parents considered it the highlight of the season.”
“Do you always attend?”
“I have a few times, maybe three or four. You know I do not much care for dances.”
“Oh. Well, if you do not wish to attend, I understand.” Lizzy could not control the tone of disappointment creeping into her voice.
“Elizabeth, look at me. My reasons for disdaining these sorts of events in the past are no longer relevant. I will assuredly never be one who shines above others at an assembly, nor will I ever pretend to adore conversation with persons unknown to me. On the other hand, I am now married, most happily I must add, so I am no longer the prime bull presented for inspection. I will be the proudest man in all of England to escort you, dearest wife, to any and all social engagements to which we are invited. Who knows, I might even surprise you and be witty and charming and a veritable dancing aficionado.”
Lizzy glowed and leapt into her husband’s arms, kissing enthusiastically all over his face. “Thank you, William! I promise I will make you proud and we will have a marvelous time!”
“I have no doubt whatsoever, my heart. Of course, you realize you will need to acquire a ball gown,” he remarked with a small grin. “I daresay this is not an onerous task?”
“I have several lovely gowns, William, thanks to your generosity.”
“No, beloved, for a ball such as this you will require something special. Madame du Loire will be able to attire you properly, and I shall reap the benefit by arriving with the most stunningly beautiful woman in the entire known universe on my arm. She, in turn, will save all the best dances for me and I shall be the envy of all the men at the ball. You see how selfish I am?”
“No more than I, dearest, for I shall be attended by the prime bull of Derbyshire! How fortunate am I?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Christmas Guests
THE DARCYS APPROACHED THE day of Georgiana’s return home with mixed emotions.
Darcy adored his sister and had missed her enormously. Far too often in the course of his adult life, business and social requirements had separated him from her. One of the fortunate consequences of settling into marriage had been the prospect of dwelling exclusively at Pemberley, with only occasional forays to Town necessary. All too soon Georgiana would be a woman and leaving him for another man. He lamented the very thought and did not wish to squander the time he had remaining as her guardian.
Lizzy was fond of Georgiana even though they had spent little time together. She pined for her own sisters, surprising herself, in truth, at how oppressive the quiet and solitude of Pemberley often felt when she had passed many an hour wishing for such quiet and solitude at Longbourn. The relationship she and Georgiana had forged thus far promised to be a sisterly one, and Lizzy recognized that this was a crucial necessity for both of them.
Nonetheless, neither Elizabeth nor Darcy relished having their tranquil honeymoon shattered. The three weeks since their wedding had been magnificent. The freedom to express their love in any way they desired, anywhere they desired, was liberating. Darcy, especially, felt as if a locked and guarded chamber had been opened in his soul. His entire life he had regulated his emotions, rigidly controlled his actions, suppressed his own desires, and dwelt in a world where honor and dignity and appearances were prized over compassion and happiness and passion. In three short weeks, that man had all but perished and Darcy’s spirit had danced at the wake.
His joy was not exclusively a product of his love for Elizabeth and the marvelous expression of that love, but also from the result of the peace that came from loosened strictures to his character. Where he once feared impropriety or performing in any way considered imprudent or sensational, he now dreaded reestablishing those traits. When he fully dwelt on his life thus far, he admitted honestly that careful adherence to society’s rules had brought him mostly grief. Amazingly, breaking from that mold, laughing and smiling openly, and bending the rules on occasion had not caused Pemberley or the world to come crashing down!
Now they would be surrounded by guests, mostly family to be sure, and the test would be whether Darcy reverted to his somber, serious self, or allowed joyfulness to bubble forth. One look at his lovely wife’s face and he did not doubt the answer.
They made love leisurely, cuddling afterwards as they conversed and tenderly caressed until passion ignited yet again. Rising late, they tarried in their sitting room until after noon, cognizant that, for the next two weeks, they would be expected to arise earlier than they had so far done and to break fast with their guests. Darcy caught up on correspondence and several business transactions while Lizzy wrote letters. Her gifts had already been sent, and the tenants’ gift boxes were prepared and waiting for distribution over the next several days. After lunch Darcy rode off on Parsifal to visit a couple of the farms.
The final Christmas details and needs were completed. Holly and ivy vines trailed along the terrace railings and a sizeable pile of each remained to decorate the inside banisters. The maids had gleefully pounced on the occasion to design elaborate mistletoe ornaments to dangle throughout the manor. The Yule log was dressed, Mrs. Langton had the mealtime essentials well in hand, and the guest chambers were cleaned and stocked. Pemberley and its new Mistress were ready!
It was late afternoon when a footman announced that the Matlock carriage was approaching, and Darcy and Lizzy prepared to greet their guests before the main entrance.
Col. Fitzwilliam alighted first, reaching in for Georgiana, who jumped out with all the enthusiasm of youth and launched into her brother’s waiting arms.
Darcy had never been able to contain his joy where it involved his dear sister. He twirled her about, laughing gleefully, before setting her on her feet and kissing her cheek. “I missed you, Georgie! Welcome home.”
“William! It is good to be home,” Georgiana replied breathlessly and then turned rapidly from her grinning brother to her new sister, standing cheerily at his side. “Elizabeth! It is wonderful to see you again!”
The two young women embraced each other. “Welcome home, Georgiana.”
Georgiana gestured at the bright flambeaux along the front drive and entrance that illuminated the trailing boughs of holly and ivy. “Pemberley is so beautiful! I do not remember it ever lovelier. What a sensational Christmas it will be!”
Darcy greeted his cousin heartily. “Darcy, old man, you are positively beaming! Married life surely agrees with you,” Col. Fitzwilliam decreed.
“More than I could possibly verbalize, cousin. Someday you must give up your reckless bachelor ways and discover the joys of matrimony.”
Richard shuddered. “Not too hasty, Darcy, not too hasty. Mrs. Darcy, if I may be so bold, you are radiant. Shocked I am, to tell the truth,” he said, with a sly glance at Darcy. “Personally, I thought you would be weary of this old codger by now!”
Lizzy laughed as the Colonel bowed and kissed her hand. “Not yet, Colonel. Perhaps in a week or two.”
Lord and Lady Matlock had approached the small group on the vera
nda and were smiling pleasantly. Darcy welcomed them formally to Pemberley, and they both greeted Lizzy with warmth.
“Please,” Darcy said with a step toward the house and the offer of his arm to his aunt, “let us hasten to the parlor where it is warm and tea awaits.”
Georgiana linked her arm through Lizzy’s, smiling shyly. “My brother is glowing, Elizabeth, and so are you.” She blushed. “I cannot convey in words how delighted I am for you both.”
“Thank you, Georgiana. We are blest, especially now that our family is with us. I trust your trip here was not overly arduous?”
“Not in the least, aside from being anxious to arrive. Cousin Richard is thoroughly entertaining. His stories nearly induce me to wish I were male so I could join the military.”
Lady Matlock laughed her throaty laugh, “Richard exaggerates, my dear Georgiana. I am certain you would discover that the realities are contrary to his stories. Nonetheless, his wit does pass the time.”
Col. Fitzwilliam raised one brow and feigned shock, “Exaggerate? I?” while Lord Matlock chuckled.
Tea was served in the main parlor, to the particular relief of the fatigued travelers. The ladies sat on settees by the table while the gentlemen conversed in a knot by the fire.
“Lady Matlock, William and I have readied your suite if you and Lord Matlock desire to abide for the night.”
“Thank you, my dear; however, I believe we will recommence our journey after dinner, if you do not object. It is not much further, and I am afraid our older bones prefer the comforts of home.” She smiled and lightly touched Lizzy’s hand, “I would be honored if you would address me as Madeline. We are family now, Elizabeth.”
Lizzy blushed, “I am touched, Madeline. Thank you. William and I are pleased you and Lord Matlock will be sharing Christmas with us. I admit I am rather fond of Christmases with copious masses of friends and family underfoot.”