Page 28 of Loving Mr. Darcy


  Darcy turned slightly, gently drawing her even closer. He could feel the firm swell of their child pressing against his hip. Three times now in the past week Lizzy had felt the baby push into her hand. Each time she had dashed to wherever he was; the last time had occurred just the day before while he was in his bath. Samuel had started, almost dropping the bucket of water onto Darcy's head, but recovered quickly. He was quite used to these sorts of interruptions now and exited hastily, neither of them noticing. Darcy had intently and patiently waited, but the baby did not cooperate. His disappointment was acute. He would never admit it, but he had moments of serious pique thinking it monumentally unfair that Elizabeth was the only recipient of these marvelous sensations when he was equally responsible for the child's existence!

  He sighed again and closed his eyes, attempting to recapture sleep, although he knew it was fruitless. He ached to be home with an urgency only once matched, and that was when they were first married. The reasons were similar: He wanted to be alone with his wife. Darcy jested about being a selfish man, yet it was banter based partially on fact. He selfishly wanted her all to himself without the endless demands of work or society. Before they knew it, the baby would be born, and as anxious and excited as they were, the reality is that life would drastically change. These next few months, to his reckoning, must be treasured.

  Sadly, their complete solitude would not commence quite yet. Charles and Jane would be traveling with them and planned to stay for at least two weeks, possibly more. The Bingleys wished to examine the Hasberry Estate, and Elizabeth expressed the desire to spend quality sister time, the two having had few occasions over the past weeks to be alone. If all went according to the Darcys’ hopes, the Bingleys would be settled in Derbyshire by winter. Caroline Bingley had somehow insinuated herself into the invitation. Darcy was not at all pleased, but, as Charles was his dearest friend, he had grit his teeth and succumbed.

  Mary was to stay with the Gardiners for a spell, the courtship with Mr. Daniels progressing at a steady pace, but Kitty would be joining the Darcys for a few weeks. Georgiana was in tears at leaving Mary behind, but the friendship with Kitty had finally blossomed, and allowing her to join the entourage traveling to Pemberley eased Georgiana's unhappiness.

  Dr. Penaflor and Uncle George planned to stay in London for an additional week or so before traveling to Pemberley in time for the Summer Festival. How long they intended to stay in England was a mystery. George was taking his “vacation” quite seriously, refusing to discuss timetables or pinpoint agendas with any degree of accuracy. Darcy smiled and chuckled lowly. In truth, he was delighted with his uncle and Raul Penaflor, both men welcome to stay forever if they wished it. The combined persuasion of every member of the family, aided by the insistence of Anne herself, had finally worn on Lady Catherine and she had allowed both doctors to examine Anne. The collaborating diagnosis was chronic anemia, to the near apoplectic rage of Anne's aged physician, who had screamingly abused both men with accusations ranging from quackery to witchcraft and more. Surprisingly, it was Anne herself who commanded a servant to physically remove the man, with Lady Catherine frozen in shock and at a rare loss for words. The remedies prescribed were primarily dietary in nature, with a regimen of herbal extract teas and a special tonic. How she would respond to the treatment remained to be seen, but Darcy was hopeful. He and Elizabeth formally invited Anne to Pemberley for the Festival, but definitive plans were yet to be made. Lord and Lady Matlock had taken the entire, “Anne Situation”—as they jokingly referred to it—under their jurisdiction.

  Darcy began to sense the early tendrils of sleep retaking him, his wife's warm body and steady breathing lulling him into an extreme place of contentment and relaxation. However, just as his mind clouded, a sudden, prolonged prod into the flesh of his hip jolted him into full wakefulness. His eyes flew open as paralysis consumed him so utterly that he ceased breathing and his heart abstained from pumping. The insistent poking continued with amazing strength, considering how small the extremity utilized. His son, as they had unconsciously began referring to the baby, apparently was displeased with being squeezed. Darcy realized he was grinning rather foolishly, and now his heart was palpitating. He slid his left hand carefully along Elizabeth's abdomen, until between his hip and the bulge, and pressed lightly. Evidently, his son was engaged in a bout of extended exercise, as he proceeded to punch, poke, and roll about inside his warm cocoon, all felt by a teary-eyed father.

  It was some minutes of incredible soul-shattering joy before Darcy became aware that Elizabeth had woken and was staring into his face, smile brilliant and eyes watery. They simply stared for the longest time, no words necessary, not that Darcy would have been able to speak.

  Finally, the baby tired and his movements ceased. The Darcys gazed with love and some other emotion too intense to name. Darcy left the swell of her belly, encircling her, hip to buttocks, as he inclined to her lips. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, kissing slowly with indescribable tenderness, wet cheeks brushing over hers with tears mingling. Wordlessly, he traveled over her face, tasting their salty tears as he lingered over each precious feature, returning to her mouth only after adoring her face thoroughly. Still gently, he probingly penetrated her mouth, absorbing her essence as he gave of his own.

  Eventually—no haste involved—he withdrew and met her eyes. Fingers feathered over her face as they studied each other, passion evident yet primarily veneration and happiness. “I love you, Elizabeth Darcy, with all my being,” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “I cannot express how precious you are to me. The mother of our children. The wonder of the miracle inside of you moves me so profoundly.” He kissed softly. “I never imagined…” his voice caught and he swallowed before resuming, “how blessed I am to have found you, my Elizabeth.”

  He kissed deeply then, rolling her slowly to her back while lightly caressing over her warm skin. With a beaming smile he left her mouth, traveling leisurely down her neck with moist kisses and nibbles. Lizzy yawned and stretched deliciously under his strong body, twining her fingers through his thick hair as he attended to her bosom with gentle caresses and kisses. Weaving idly down her torso, he eventually nestled between her legs with mouth pressing delicate pecks over her belly.

  Lying flat, the small mound of their child nearly disappeared, with only a palm-sized hardness palpable below her navel. Darcy murmured nonsense over this evidence of their love, tickling Lizzy's skin so that she giggled and squirmed.

  “What are you saying to him, love?”

  “I am informing him that he has been gifted to the very best mother in the entire world. Also, I am reintroducing myself and thanking him for finally allowing me to feel him. If need be, I shall squeeze him several times a day. He can kick me whenever the whim takes him!” He glanced up into her mirth-filled face. “He is strong, beloved, as I knew he would be. No wonder you have been able to feel him for so long.” He kissed her belly, then laid his cheek on top.

  “How strange to love someone so small and yet unseen. You carry him, my heart, thus your love is undoubtedly stronger yet. It is such an amazing experience!” He began to turn his head but a sharp stab halted him.

  As if in response to Darcy's voice and expressed devotion, the baby commenced a series of lazy pushes into his father's cheek. Darcy gasped, reaching quickly for Lizzy's hand to lie next to his cheek. Together they waited in silence as the tiny life exerted his individuality and vitality. In all the years and pregnancies that would follow—each of which were a miracle and cause for intense celebration, with Darcy and Lizzy never tiring of the simple wonder to be found in these internal movements—this first experience would eternally hold a special place in their hearts. Darcy wept silently without shame, so overcome that it was several minutes before he could think clearly. Lizzy rose slightly, grasping him in her arms and pulling upward until nestled snuggly in her embrace.

  Tenderly and slowly they made love, passion cresting at a leisurely pace, yet intense and fulfillin
g as always. Afterwards, tingling and satiated, Darcy's body draped partially over Lizzy's while they dreamily caressed each other, they kissed softly and drowsily. “I love you, William,” Lizzy whispered as sleep claimed her, Darcy mumbling the same as he too drifted into a blissful slumber.

  “I see it! Pemberley at last. Look, William!” Lizzy was bouncing on the seat as a child in her enthusiasm, Darcy laughing as he stroked her back.

  “Yes, dearest love, I see it. Finally we are home.”

  The carriage proceeded slowly up the lengthy drive leading to the Manor, tall trees shading the gravel avenue and interspersed so as to offer glimpses of the River Derwent to the left. Lizzy had been literally on the edge of her seat for the past hour as familiar Derbyshire then Pemberley terrain came into view. The trip of two days had passed uneventfully. The Darcys led the small caravan in their carriage, followed by Georgiana, Kitty, and Mrs. Annesley in a second, the Bingleys and Caroline in the third, and last the servants. The massive quantity of luggage, far more than when they left Pemberley two months ago, was distributed between all four conveyances.

  Lizzy sighed and turned to her husband with a bright smile. “You understand that I do adore Darcy House, but nothing can compare to Pemberley.” She leaned into his chest, playing with the knots of his cravat and smiling sweetly. Brushing against parted lips, she whispered, “Tonight, my beloved husband, we shall stand on our balcony gazing at the stars over the valley. Then we shall make love in our bed in our chamber in our home and it will be fantastic, amazing, and beautiful. The perfect homecoming.”

  Darcy spoke hoarsely, “My love, you should cease or we will not be waiting until tonight, I can assure you!”

  “Tsk tsk. What an impatient man you are, Mr. Darcy! No self control whatsoever.”

  “Who was it, Mrs. Darcy,” he spoke breathlessly, “that lowered the shades on this trip because she wanted what only I can give? Hmm?”

  “You certainly did not argue the treatment, my dear. Very well then, we both lack the most basic virtues of bodily control and discipline. What a pity. We must work on that.”

  “No, we shall not ‘work on that,’ my lover. When it comes to my desire for you, and vice versa, I never wish to rein in our impulses.” He kissed her tenderly, smoothing a few loose strands of hair and retucking them into her coiffure.

  “Thank you, dear. Am I presentable?”

  He chuckled. “Oh yes, love, you are presentable. Beautiful. Perfect. Delicious.” The carriage bumped over the cobblestones, drawing their attention away from each other. Moments later they halted before the grandly carved stone steps leading to the massive portico and front doors of Pemberley Manor. Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Taylor, and Mr. Keith stood on the top steps, several footmen on the drive springing into action the second the carriage stopped.

  Darcy assisted his wife from the carriage, glancing over to see the others exiting their carriages. Linking his wife's arm, they mounted the short stairs toward the smiling trio.

  Mrs. Reynolds spoke first. “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, we are so delighted to have you home. I have a light repast and tea waiting in the parlor, and all is prepared for the guests, sir. I took the liberty of preparing a couple's chamber for Mr. and Mrs. Bingley.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. That completely slipped my mind. Did you place Miss Bennet next to Miss Darcy?”

  “Yes, sir. Miss Bingley I placed in her usual room, seeing no call to alter that. Is this sufficient?”

  “Perfectly, thank you.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, are the plans proceeding for the Festival as we had outlined?”

  “Yes, Mistress. I have a detailed report on your desk. We can meet and discuss the particulars whenever you wish.”

  “Excellent. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

  The others had alit and were climbing the stairs. Kitty's jaw had dropped, eyes sweeping the facade of the house rather than attending to her steps. Luckily, Georgiana was guiding with arms linked. Jane, naturally, was controlled in her surprise, yet Lizzy could tell she was impressed. With a broad smile, Lizzy grasped both her sister's hands, leaning in for kisses to their cheeks.

  “Welcome to Pemberley! I am so happy to have you both here. Come inside and let me show you our home.” Darcy smiled at Elizabeth's zeal, also noting Caroline Bingley's sour expression. Lizzy, thankfully, did not notice, already steering her sisters through the doors. Inside the grand foyer, Lizzy introduced them to Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Taylor, assuring that they could be called upon for any needs. Then she proceeded to tour them about the enormous room, pointing to various objects and offering history and insight with a thoroughness that surprised them all, even Darcy, who had not realized the depth of her knowledge regarding the house. They followed Lizzy as she ascended the grand staircase, chattering as she unerringly led to the main parlor, settling with relief onto comfortable sofas and chairs.

  “It is as you claimed, Mrs. Darcy; you have changed nothing.”

  “A few alterations here and there, Miss Bingley, but as I said, Pemberley is lovely as it is.” She glanced up at Darcy, who was talking to Bingley as he poured a brandy from the sidebar. “I did redecorate my parlor, which I shall show you all later. I suppose next I must tackle the nursery and bedchamber, but that chore shall be a delight.”

  “Oh, I wish I did not have to leave!” Kitty moaned. “I want to help with the nursery.”

  Lizzy patted her hand. “There there dear. Perhaps we can do some shopping before you return to Hertfordshire. Also, you can offer any opinion you may have on furnishings. After all, I am a novice and could use all the advice available!” She laughed, smiling up at her husband who had rejoined the group.

  Miss Bingley spoke, “Surely you intend to hire a professional for this, do you not, Mrs. Darcy? Infant requirements are so specific, I would imagine. Would it not be wise to allow the nanny and others to arrange the needs?”

  “Thank you for your concern, Miss Bingley,” Darcy replied in his firm voice, “however, Mrs. Darcy and I intend to educate ourselves fully. We will be proactive and wholly in charge of all aspects of our child's necessities. Jane, my steward informed me that the Hasberry Estate is still available, although there have been two seriously interested parties. He took the liberty of arranging an inspection for the morrow.”

  “Jane, dear,” Bingley addressed his wife, “Darcy thought it wisest for us to meet alone with Mr. Greystone this initial time, man to man, so to speak. We can return the following day with you and Lizzy if the manor is acceptable.”

  “Whatever you think best, Charles,” Jane replied calmly, but Elizabeth was frowning faintly.

  “Excellent! Darcy and I will ride out there early then and perhaps…”

  “Ride!” Elizabeth interrupted with a raised brow and harsh glance to her husband. “Your physician, Mr. Darcy, has ordered you not to ride as of yet.”

  “Pardon me, Lizzy,” Bingley spoke quickly, “Poor choice of words. We shall take a phaeton and,” hastily finishing at the look on her face, “I shall drive.”

  Jane smiled at her sister's concern. “How well do you know this Mr. Greystone, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Somewhat. My father was more familiar as they were close in age. Tragically, Mr. Greystone never sired any children and his wife passed last year. I heard he plans to dwell with a sister who lives near London once he sells the estate. It is a lovely piece of property, Jane. I do believe you will find it more than adequate.”

  Lizzy clasped her hand in excitement. “Then, Jane dearest, you shall be nearby. I can reach you in my new curricle in no time at all!” She grinned up at Darcy.

  “How is your injury mending, Mr. Darcy? It must be extremely disturbing to not be able to ride your horse. I know how very much you enjoy the activity,” Caroline asked with a familiar smile.

  “Nearly one hundred percent. I rather believe my personal physician is being overly cautious.” He patted Elizabeth's shoulder and smiled into her eyes. “Nonetheless, I promised to obey the professionals, inclu
ding my nurse. I have the remainder of my life to ride my horse, although it is undoubtedly sensible to avoid Parsifal just yet. He will not understand.”

  After dinner entertainment was blessedly brief, all individuals in varying states of weariness due to the long trip. Darcy and Lizzy entered their sitting room hand in hand and eager to be alone. The servants diligently managed to unpack the luggage and properly distribute most of the packages. However, they had been flummoxed as to what to do with the contents of the massive trunk which sat forlornly in the middle of the floor. Lizzy laughed, kneeling on the carpet to open the crammed trunk. Within were the presents that George Darcy had brought from India and further abroad.

  Darcy sat on the chaise and began removing his boots while Lizzy rummaged inside. Mostly he had brought a stunning array of fabrics of a quality and color nearly impossible to find in England.

  “Indian women,” George had said, “are a bold people. The peasants even wear bright colors, but the wealthier wear elaborate weaves of silk.” As he spoke he pulled yards upon yards of vibrantly patterned cottons and silks from the trunk, tossing them randomly at Lizzy and the girls. Then he proceeded to use a grinning and compliant Dr. Penaflor to demonstrate the numerous methods of draping a sari. Raul had posed and pranced while they all dissolved into hysterics.

  Lizzy retrieved a particularly colorful silk, and with a flutter of her lashes toward her smiling spouse, draped it over her head. Apparently George had accumulated the odd assortment of gifts over a long period of time, some purchased and others given as payment for medical services. The trunk held a collection of exotic spices and teas; jewelry in an endless array of styles for fingers, toes, upper and lower arms, necks, ears and more in designs simple and intricate made from gold, silver, glass, ivory and copper; incense; engraved glassware; pottery; musky perfumes; hand-woven carpets and wall hangings; an exquisitely crafted silver tea set engraved with roaring tigers; pictures of Indian peoples and scenes both painted or created with tiny pieces of wood or glass or beads; and for Darcy, an English saddle constructed of camel skin with a superbly carved pattern of racing horses over sand dunes.