“You are incorrigible, Mrs. Darcy.” They stood in the hallway outside the parlor where their guests were lounging after lunch, except for Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Lathrop. The anglers had apparently lost all sense of time in their pursuit of the elusive fish, so a basket of food had been delivered to them.
She stepped closer to him, fingering the buttons of his coat. “You will arrange this for us, my love, will you not? And join us in our frivolous pastime as my savior if nothing else.” She looked up at him through her lashes.
He smiled, tenderly fingering her chin and cheeks. “My love, I shall likely chastise myself later for confessing this; however, I would doubtless grant you anything within my capacity to give, such is your power over me.”
In short order they were bundled snugly and laced into their skates. Mrs. Gardiner had opted to rest in her chambers, and Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Lathrop were still captivated by the trout pond, leaving Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam to escort the ladies. Once Darcy relinquished his initial pique, the idea of ice skating actually sounded pleasant. He had not skated in several years and had almost forgotten how enjoyable the experience was. Georgiana had truthfully enlightened Lizzy on her brother’s abilities, which he displayed in a rare example of exhibitionism by effortless gliding onto the ice and rendering a dazzling figure eight with a spin on one foot before grinningly approaching his stunned wife.
“Braggart!” she declared, to which he bowed grandly before taking her hand. He tucked her in close to his side and set a measured pace. Lizzy was not truly as inept as she hinted but had decided to enjoy the deception for now, to the point of already eyeing the snowdrifts along the edge, thus saving the joy of seeing her husband’s surprise later when she smugly revealed her competence.
The small pond, as it was called, was indeed smaller than the other water bodies of Pemberley; it was roughly forty feet in diameter and shallow, allowing it to freeze quickly and easily. The purpose of the pond, Lizzy had been told by Darcy from the upper windows of the manor when he gave her the “tour” of the grounds, was primarily for winter skating and as a summer home for minnows, frogs, toads, and several species of ducks.
They passed a lovely two hours, twirling and floating, as the snow steadily fell in gentle flakes. Lizzy accidentally fell only once, picking a particularly cushy heap; however, her ploy failed. Darcy merely laughed and offered his hand. Once she was safely on her feet, he bussed her rosy pouting lips and slithered away, leaving her standing there with her mouth open.
“Mr. Darcy!”
“Come along, Mrs. Darcy; catch me up! I am wise to your charade.”
Col. Fitzwilliam had surreptitiously observed this little interplay, cataloguing it with all the other amazing actions, words, and expressions he had noted from his cousin, and marveling at the phenomenon. It was as if the Fitzwilliam Darcy he had known all his life no longer existed. No, he reconsidered, that was not accurate. Darcy had always had the propensity to laugh and joke, and was renowned in fact for his clever wit, but always with reserve and caution attached. Very few people, a mere handful in truth, could say they knew the relaxed side of his personality. Richard doubted whether Georgiana could claim to have witnessed her brother in a completely undone state and, with one glance at her shocked yet radiant face as she, too, observed Darcy’s antics, he knew he was correct. A Darcy who laughed boisterously, kissed and touched in public, smiled foolishly, blatantly ignored rules of propriety by whisking his wife off to their bedroom, and who teased and conversed affably was a new creature entirely. Richard could not be happier.
The final crescendo to the afternoon was a snowball fight started by Lizzy with a well-aimed lob at the back of her husband’s head. The game was on with all of them breathless, cold, wet, and smiling brightly by the time the snow began falling in earnest with a rising wind, prompting them to quit the pond. They met up with Mr. Lathrop and Mr. Gardiner, blue lipped and shivering, but also grinning broadly and proudly sharing their day’s results with the group, who displayed the appropriate amount of enthusiasm.
The staff scrambled to draw hot baths for all. Lizzy sank into her bathing tub with a grateful sigh, reclining and closing her eyes as the warm water seeped into her frozen, aching muscles. As she began to drift off into a doze, she was jolted awake by a soft whisper and the sensation of hands grazing over her shoulders and then down her arms. She yelped and thrashed wildly, sending a spray of water flying through the air, soaking her husband whom it was, naturally, standing behind her.
Her panic and anger was rapidly replaced by amusement at the sight of Darcy in his robe, droplets hanging from his nose and chin and an expression of incredulity and mortification flowing over his handsome face.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy!” she declared crisply, “How dare you frighten me this way?” Any attempt on her part to be stern was nullified in part by her nakedness and location, but mostly by the comical and heavenly vision of her spouse.
Lizzy had long marveled at the varying miens of the man before her. Darcy’s aspect could be haughty, domineering, blasé, grave, and forbidding; in all ways a face not to be trifled with. Then there was his tender, passionate, joyful, and smiling countenance, approachable and youthfully innocent. His most adorable face was the one he now wore: his “puppy face,” as Lizzy dubbed it. With his blue eyes slightly drooping, brows knitted, pallor marked, and full lips parted in confusion, he looked more an errant little boy than the Master of Pemberley.
“Elizabeth, forgive me! I did not intend to frighten you. I should have spoken louder. How thoughtless of me! I shall leave you.”
“William, wait!” she yelled with a laugh halting him at the door, although he kept his eyes averted. “You did startle me, which would have been avoided if you had only announced your presence in a less shocking manner. Nevertheless, I am not averse to your being here, depending on what your intentions are,” she finished playfully.
He glanced at her, pallor replaced by a blush, and her smile deepened. How can a man of nine-and-twenty suddenly look about twelve and be absolutely delectable!
“Your bathing tub is quite large… ”
“You purchased it, my love,” she interrupted.
“Yes, well…” he cleared his throat, “I thought at the time that you would appreciate it and that it could easily accommodate two, if such a situation arose,” he concluded lamely, waving his hand vaguely.
“You imagine now to be one of those situations?”
He flashed a grin, meeting her eyes hesitantly. “The maids have to carry dozens of pails, so I merely thought to spare them filling another tub.”
“How considerate of you.”
“Yes. I also recognized how cold you were and thought perhaps the added body heat would be welcome. I would not wish you to fall ill.”
“Mr. Darcy, you are the epitome of English chivalry.”
He was smiling brightly now, “puppy face” replaced by the more familiar one of passionate promise.
Lizzy laughed. “William, you are shivering and the water is growing cold. Hurry up, but lock the door first.”
He needed no further encouragement, and his robe was discarded hastily. He positioned his body behind Lizzy, wincing at the hot water on cool skin. She reclined gratefully against his chest, sighing and closing her eyes.
“Hmmm… This is better. Why have we not previously considered this?”
“We may not have; however, I unquestionably have.”
She was befuddled. “Yet you have not acted on the inclination. Why?”
He was silent and she could sense a hesitancy and slight tension in his body, even as his fingers lightly stroked her arms. She tilted her head to peer up at him and noted a faint blush on his cheeks. She frowned. “William? Whatever is the matter?”
He met her eyes with a level gaze. “Elizabeth, I love you to distraction. You know this, I am certain.” She smiled and nodded. “On occasion, in truth fairly continuously, I am… inundated by my need for you. I do not merely refer to our intima
te relationship, for that is only a fragment of my desire for you. When we are parted, even for miniscule periods, I yearn for your presence. The ache is tangible and only assuaged by your voice or touch or simply seeing your face.” He traced her jawline with one finger.
She pondered his serious expression with heightened misery. “Does this yearning and need for me disturb you? You wish it otherwise?”
His eyes widened at the catch in her voice and note of pain, and his hand firmly cupped her cheek. “No, Elizabeth, God no! You misapprehend my words or I chose them poorly. Please, allow me to rephrase. You lend purpose to my life and I am an empty husk without you. My fear is that my… demands could in any way intrude upon you or become burdensome. I frightened you by coming in here, selfishly considering only my desire for you without contemplating if you needed solitude or preferred your privacy. You have had precious little of either since we have wed, and I would not want to be the cause of your dissatisfaction.”
She maneuvered around to face him, water sloshing. “My darling, you are being a baby again.” She smiled and kissed him, happy to feel her dismay evaporating and his eyes softening. “You are forgetting several facts. First, I am terribly forthright, a character trait you are painfully familiar with. If I need solitude, I will tell you. Second, I am as insanely in love with you as you are with me. If we were keeping score, I would venture to guess I have invaded your private sanctuaries and isolation far more often. You need never worry being welcomed by me. Just do not sneak.” She concluded with a precise assault to his ticklish zones, water flying.
The only sure method of halting her antics was to clutch her with strong arms and distract with a deep kiss. “Elizabeth, have I told you lately how utterly amazing you are?” He nibbled along her neck while delicately caressing her shoulders. Oddly enough, at least for the moment, his original intention of fulfilling yet another fantasy by making love in the water was not foremost in his mind. He had spoken honestly regarding his desire for her presence. Merely holding her, knowing he was welcomed and wanted to the same degree, was a balm to his heart. How could he doubt her love? He was ashamed of himself for entertaining the notion.
Thoughts of lovemaking may have momentarily fled his consciousness, but they had dawned with alacrity on Lizzy. Her hands were not content to remain in one area. She ran her palms over his torso, hairs silky and buoyant from the water. Oh, how she adored touching him! Darcy naked and wet was an ambrosial vision. She was ceaselessly energized by his solid, defined muscles, replete with raw power emanating from every pore. His skin was flawless and creamy, as soft as satin, and radiating heat and supreme masculinity. In each line and plane of his perfect body, she sensed strength, protection, fortitude, virility, and intoxicating sexuality. He was the embodiment of all things male and subsequently accentuated her femininity as nothing in her experience ever had. Lizzy knew her love for Darcy was profoundly deeper than merely physical, but, oh, how he aroused her!
She pressed against his chest, moaning softly. “William,” she whispered, “I love you so.”
“My Lizzy,” he sighed, grasping her shoulders lightly and pulling her back a space. He smiled, ran the tips of his fingers over her face, and then reached for the soap. “On your knees,” he commanded quietly as he rose to his. He lathered his hands and proceeded to fastidiously cleanse her body, lingering over each area. Lizzy followed his lead, quickly light-headed from the combined awareness of his hands gliding over her and hers sliding over him. It did not take long for the caresses to become stronger and more intimately focused, sensations raging uncontainable until the urgent necessity to unite as one overwhelmed them.
Darcy frantically clasped her body against his, forcing her to stillness, and kissed her roughly before gulping for air and control as they sank entwined into the slick water. “I do not want to rush this, beloved! I have dreamed of making love to you here for a very long time.”
“How long have you dreamed of this, my heart? And are your dreams being fulfilled?” She leaned down and sharply bit his earlobe, nibbling bites trailing along his wet neck.
“Far longer than it would be proper for me to divulge if I wish to maintain my reputation as a gentleman. As for the content of my dreams… as vivid as they were, none has remotely resembled the reality of your love, Elizabeth. Despite the stories amongst my peers, I had no true notion of the physical pleasure and absolutely not a clue as to the spiritual and emotional gratification I have attained in you, my wife.”
They kissed deeply and playfully. Hands touching everywhere: backs, breasts, arms, necks, faces… slipping nimbly in the filmy water. Oh, the ecstasy! Darcy was a man possessed. Some part of his mind was amazed anew at the love and desire he felt for this woman, his wife. Even throughout the long, hideous months of wanting her, he had not fully appreciated how utterly she would consume his existence or how vital she would be to his happiness.
Further, as he felt desire growing beyond what seemed physically possible, as the torrents of throbbing heat surged through his body, as breathing and heartbeat erratically pounded in his chest, and as rapture dominated and crashed over him, he acknowledged the ignorance and innocence of his former self. In all ways that mattered, he had been born and became a man on the day she married him.
Lord and Lady Matlock arrived late in the afternoon, blowing in with the wind and snow. Now all the Christmas guests were present and accounted for, and introductions were executed. Once again the outstanding Pemberley staff exceeded all expectations and served a lavish feast. The after-dinner activities were fairly subdued, all being fatigued from their daytime pursuits. The gentlemen renounced their usual private entertainments in favor of joining the ladies in the parlor. Hot cocoa and spiced cider was served as an accompaniment to a platter of sweets, fruits, nuts, and other finger treats. Conversation was sporadic and tempered.
Georgiana sat quietly and embroidered. Lady Matlock and Mrs. Lathrop had formed an easy acquaintance, based primarily on the fact that Lady Matlock had distant Scottish ancestry and adored the Highlands. She had visited there often in her youth, as her family owned a manor near Inverness, so they now conversed amiably. Darcy, contentedly sipping his cup of cocoa, sat near Mr. Lathrop in a far corner, the two old friends softly speaking as they renewed their association by reliving memories of bygone days and filling in the recent gaps. Lord Matlock read by the roaring fire, lulled in short order into a doze. Lizzy, Richard, Mrs. Gardiner, and Mr. Gardiner sat at the card table and played whist, the Gardiners teaming up against Lizzy and the Colonel. The card table was by far the liveliest spot in the room, yet even there a halcyon atmosphere prevailed.
Lady Matlock retired first, rescuing the Earl from embarrassing himself by snoring while he drowsed. Georgiana followed soon thereafter. The game ended, the Gardiners the ultimate victors with two sets won to Lizzy and Richard’s one. Darcy and Mr. Lathrop’s conversation had evolved naturally to the topic of their mutual bliss regarding their wedded states, prompting both gentlemen’s thoughts to deviate toward their lovely wives. As the party began to break up, it was clear to the remaining guests where the newlyweds’ musings lay. With gentle smiles of understanding, the Gardiners and Richard extended their good nights. Mr. Lathrop and Darcy claimed their spouses and wasted no time with excessive adieus.
Darcy and Lizzy parted to their respective dressing rooms with a slow kiss, Darcy commanding her to wait for him to retrieve her before entering their bedchamber—a request that puzzled her, but she agreed. In no time at all he entered wearing nothing but a robe, as Lizzy preferred, and assumed the task of brushing her hair. No words passed for some fifteen minutes, each content simply to enjoy the moment. Darcy reveled in the sensation of her sumptuous hair crackling with life in his hands, while Lizzy succumbed to the pleasure of his radiant warmth behind her and the soft kisses and caresses he interspersed while he brushed.
When he spoke, his voice was husky, sending thrills down her spine. “I have an early Christmas present for you, my dear
est wife. Do you wish to see it?”
“How coincidental! I have an early present for you as well, and somehow I gather we shall both greatly benefit from our respective gifts,” she replied with a saucy smile. She rose from her seat, turning to face him as she leaned against her vanity, blushing faintly. Focusing on his expectant but puzzled gaze, she continued in an enticing whisper, “Today, my love, you fulfilled a fantasy of yours, to my tremendous pleasure, I hasten to add. Perhaps you would welcome sharing a fantasy of mine?”
He raised a brow and grinned. “As you wish, dearest. I am at your disposal.”
Her blush increased and she swallowed nervously but met his gaze boldly. “Nearly every evening, you enter my dressing room and brush my hair as I sit on my bench. You kiss my neck softly and caress my neck and shoulders with your beautiful fingers.” As she spoke she demonstrated his movements with her own fingers lightly brushing her skin. Darcy gulped, groin clenching. “Time and again I have visualized you proceeding further to my back and then down my arms as you seductively peel my robe away,” and she slowly removed her robe, letting in fall in a puddle of satin at her feet.
Darcy gasped and blinked in disbelief. She was wearing the sheerest, clingiest, and shortest chemise he had ever beheld, thigh-high silk stockings secured with lacy garters, and nothing else. Intelligible speech was literally impossible. She stood patiently, observing with a thrill of satisfaction his obvious excitement. Serenely she glided toward him until there was only the bench between them. Bending slowly until her lips were touching his right ear, she murmured, “Do you wish to hear what I then imagine, my heart?” She sucked his earlobe and he could only groan a raspy yes. “I dream of you loving me here, in my dressing room, too overwhelmed with your need to walk even to our bed.”
He froze in shock, staring at her in incredulity. What she was suggesting was in point of fact a fantasy he had harbored and vividly enacted in his dreams. Like all his more exotic fantasies, he had intended to work toward implementing them gradually as he deemed her receptive. Despite her openness in their intimate relationship and her astounding passion, he nonetheless was flabbergasted that she would fabricate such a fantasy and then beseech and obviously lust after him in this manner! Aghast he might be, but assuredly he was not unwilling to capitulate wholeheartedly to her supplication. A slow, sensuous grin diffused his face.