She grasped his hands, pulling him to a sitting position. She searched his blue, love saturated eyes, tears suddenly welling in her brown ones. “Fitzwilliam Darcy,” she whispered, “What a gift you are in my life! I hope you understand that as much as I yearn for you physically, and I do every moment of every day, it is your heart and soul that have captured me. If we could no longer make love for some reason I would ache for you, but I would still love you as profoundly because you live inside my very essence.” She cupped his face fiercely. “Do you know this, my husband?”
Strong, warm hands palmed and stroked her neck and cheeks while he kissed her by way of reply. Passion, devotion, unity, and worship spoke eloquently through the intimate activity. In hoarse, resonant tones he said, “Elizabeth, I know I dwell in your heart and soul because you reside in mine as well. Apart from you I am shattered and fragmented. In your presence I am whole. It shall never be otherwise. I have not the minutest doubt of your love for me, beloved wife. It amazes me yet that you love me, but I do not dispute it.”
Words were lost in a rapturous kiss, Lizzy loving him with a rhythmic swaying motion, arms tenaciously over his shoulders and hands weaved in his hair. Oblivious to the outside world, which thankfully remained empty of all but a few birds and one rabbit, they danced and joined in perfect harmony. Pleasures of the flesh merged with the supernatural coalescing of spirits as two souls become one, not exclusively at the pinnacle of carnal glory but for all eternity.
“Why are you standing here and staring into the stable yard?”
Lizzy turned from the window to smile at her spouse as he crossed the empty room to join her with a soft kiss. She reached to caress a cheek, speaking lowly, “This was my chamber when I stayed here nursing Jane all those months ago. Do you remember?”
“Do I remember that you slept in the room three doors away from mine? Precisely twenty-two strides away? Yes, I do.”
Lizzy laughed. “You actually counted the steps?”
“Not consciously but, after passing this door numerous times over the course of those five days with an urgent desire to talk to you or at least nod politely, I noted the distance. But why are you in here now?”
“I was recalling a vision of extreme loveliness.” She tiptoed to kiss his baffled face and then laughed. She turned to look outside, leaning into his chest and clasping the arms that instantly encircled her. “On my third morning here, I woke early, as I always did, and went first to check on Jane. She was still feverish but asleep, so I returned to my room and sat at this window reading. I do not know how much time passed when I saw you. Down there.”
She pointed to the dirt clearing before the main stable doors. “You rode Parsifal, I swear the largest horse I had ever seen, startling me at how you barreled in full bore seeming to stop barely before colliding with the doors, and vaulted off his back in one smooth motion ere he was completely still. I had never witnessed the like. Your face was thunderous and even from this distance I could discern how heavily you were breathing. Fleetingly, I had wondered what in the world could have you so distraught, but mostly I was caught by your appearance.”
She gazed up at his face, noting the remote expression in his eyes as he stared sightlessly at the yard. “You wore your typical riding clothes, your hair windblown and shirt open. You spoke to the groom, handing the reins over, and then strode briskly to the water pump. To my mesmerized shock, you grasped the handle, pumping violently, and stuck your whole head and upper torso under the stream of water. Then you stood tall, arched your back, water flying everywhere when you flipped your head backward and ran your hands through your sopping hair. Water cascaded down your body with your shirt clinging and nearly transparent. God, William! You were an Adonis!” She chuckled shakily, squeezing the fingers entwined with hers. “Of course, it all happened so fast, and before I could really assimilate a coherent thought you abruptly swiveled your head toward this window, eyes angry and piercing. I jerked backward and slipped to the floor. I was so embarrassed! I thought you had somehow detected me staring. I can still remember how hot my face was, but am even now unsure if that was due to your catching me gaping, your breathtakingly gorgeous figure, or both! Probably both.”
He met her eyes, smiling his sensuous grin and firmly stroking over one hip. “Thank you for the compliment, my love. I did not see you, although I knew this was your room.” He bent and kissed her upturned lips reverently, whispering roughly, “That night I had my first erotic dream of you. I woke so angry with myself and with you, as illogical as that was. Not to mention aroused as I never had been in all my life. I could not accept what I was feeling for you, thinking it unacceptable on so many levels. I was an incredible fool, Elizabeth.”
“We were both fools, my heart.” She pivoted in his embrace, snaking arms over his shoulders and rising on tiptoes to brush plump lips. “So tell me truthfully. Did any of your dreams include sneaking into my room and ravishing me?” His ready flush provided the answer. “Hmmm… I thought so. You know, this room is unoccupied. We could reenact your fantasy tonight if you wish.” She finished with a flutter of lashes and arch grin.
Darcy chuckled lowly. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
“Yes, I know.”
For their last evening at Netherfield, the Bingleys and Darcys hosted a small dinner party of their own with primarily family and a few other couples, the total number around fifty. Elizabeth, deciding it was time for Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley to make a formal appearance, wore the ball gown from the Masque. Fully bejeweled and gloved, with hair stupendously arrayed, she was a vision of grace and elegance. Glowing with a radiance borne from within, fueled by a transcendent love and joy, Elizabeth was resplendent. Mr. Darcy was no less magnificent in his finery, with hair freshly trimmed by Samuel, and countenance equally euphoric as a result of his love and bliss and pride in his stunning wife.
Jane Bingley was gorgeous as well. Mr. Bingley, although not as wealthy as Darcy, spared no expense when it came to his wife. Therefore, Jane was gowned brilliantly, jeweled and coiffed and luminous. Only those guests with knowledgeable eyes could discern the finer weave or premiere cut to Elizabeth's outfit. However, every single person, most of them having known the Bennet girls all their lives, could not deny that for the first time Jane did not immediately stand out as the most beautiful of the two.
Darcy and Bingley proudly stood by their wives as they greeted the guests: Jane serene and gracious, Lizzy charming and effervescent, and both men awestruck anew by their good fortune. It was an evening, despite its simplicity, that would be gossiped about for months to come. The women in attendance would ceaselessly discuss the regalia worn; the men spoke of the fine food and spirits. All would comment on the affection displayed between both couples.
Charles and Jane, in the newfound fullness of their relationship, were nearly as giddy and ridiculous as the Darcys. Lizzy, never one to be demure, made no secret of her overwhelming love for her handsome husband. Darcy's musings were already racing ahead to how his Elizabeth would dazzle the ton of London society and his pride was boundless.
The last guest welcomed, Charles offered his arm to Jane, entering the decorated reception hall. Darcy turned to Lizzy. “Are you well, dearest?”
“Perfectly so, Mr. Darcy,” she replied, smiling up at his handsome face, straightening his flawless cravat—a sort of ritual for her. “I love you, William.”
“I adore you, Mrs. Darcy, more than life. Shall we then?” Arms entwined, they entered the hall.
THE LONDON OF 1817 was a city in-between. With a population well over one million souls, London was easily the largest single city in the world. The self-indulgent excesses of the Georgian Period had waned along with the madness of its King. While George III remained locked safely away at Windsor Castle, his son and future King, George the Prince Regent, ushered in an Age of Elegance, embracing the arts and science with all issues devoted to the advancement of beauty, style, and taste. The two wars and crushing defeats by the new Un
ited States of America were a memory, and Napoleon Bonaparte had finally been eliminated, thus permanently ending the decades-long unrest in France. This allowed a resurgence of exchange in both goods and culture, inaugurating an influx of technology, industry, and immigrants.
These intervening years, as well as those that would follow, when the Prince Regent became George IV in 1820, were years of tremendous change for Britain. London, as its capital and largest city, would reflect these changes first and to greater degrees than the rest of the country. Embracing the romantic ideals of nature and emotion rather than the serious rationalization of the Enlightenment, theater, art, literature, poetry, and architecture would radically change and flourish. The inundation of technology and science eventually led to an industrial revolution that would burst forth from London to all civilized nations of the world.
Masses of people of all nationalities and classes flooded unceasingly into the city. New suburbs, shopping districts, commerce areas, docks, housing communities, factories, and more seemingly sprung up overnight. The officials, public workers, and law enforcers groaned and strained under the added burdens engendered. Therefore—while such wonders as gas lighting illuminated the streets and houses, agricultural delights from far away places became imported, and structural marvels like new bridges spanned the Thames—pollution, crime, poverty, and the yawning chasms between the classes increased. Whereas the gap separating the richest and the poorest expanded, the middle class rose to fill the chasm. These merchants, bankers, artisans, and tradesmen eventually aided England in becoming an even stronger empire.
London, analogous to most large cities, naturally separated into localities based on class and objective. At the lowest rung were the slums inhabited by those who through choice or misfortune lived a life of poverty or crime, or more often both. These were the areas that the vast majority of London's inhabitants avoided at the risk of life and limb. Other blocks catered to business or government. Bond Street, Covent Gardens, and Cheapside, just to name a few, catered to shopping needs. Fleet Street was world renowned for its publishing. The Guildhall, Houses of Parliament, and Old Bailey at the Newgate Prison complex dealt with governmental and law enforcement aspects.
Scattered throughout London were the residential districts generally surrounding a garden square or park of varying sizes and fulsomeness depending on the affluence of the populace. The Mayfair and Kensington Districts, both bordering Hyde Park and St. James Park where the Royal Palace stood, were unarguably the wealthiest and most fashionable neighborhoods in all of London. Each locality boasted several astounding gardens and splendid houses; however, Grosvenor Square in Mayfair was incomparable. Darcy's great-greatgrandfather had been a close companion to Sir Grosvenor and, in fact, had married one of his cousins. Consequently, the Darcy family had acquired one of the initial townhouses built facing the Square itself.
The traffic entering the city was excessively congested, causing the journey from Wembley to the townhouse to take as long as the entire distance from Longbourn! The unrelenting noise and stench of multitudes of horses, fireplaces, sewage, and heaven only knows what else had seriously affected Lizzy, educing a stabbing headache and severe nausea barely held in check. Darcy was extremely disturbed, frantic to reach the house, and mad with frustration as there was no way to speedily do so. Upon finally arriving late in the afternoon, an ill Lizzy insisted on walking into the house despite Darcy's intention to carry her. He opened his mouth to argue, but one glance at her pale yet determined face and he pinched his lips into a thin line, remaining silent. She leaned heavily against his side, steps sluggish, but managing with a reserve of strength truly remarkable under the circumstances. Darcy was nervous but proud of her indomitable spirit. She was quickly reintroduced to Mrs. Smyth, the housekeeper, and Mr. Travers, the butler, then rushed to the master chambers while commands issued forth from a stern Darcy and were hastily discharged. In consequence, the first night was rather chaotic with Lizzy violently ill, Darcy fretful, and Georgiana worried and forgotten.
Lizzy knew that Darcy had a hectic agenda scheduled for the next three days. He had meetings planned with his solicitor as well as several business associates, but had informed her with a mischievous smirk that primarily his affairs involved her birthday. He stubbornly refused to reveal the merest hint regarding his plans, only bidding her to keep the day free of all engagements. When she woke on their first day in Town, Darcy had already risen and was busily writing at the desk in the small sitting room attached, one eye on his slumbering wife. After dashing to the water closet, Lizzy shuffled slowly and shakily to her husband, who nervously stood waiting for her. Instantly he enfolded her into his arms, hugging her tightly then assisting her to the chaise.
“What can I do for you, my love?”
“Nothing, William, thank you. It will pass. Perhaps you could ring Marguerite for some tea?”
“Of course! How thoughtless of me.” Once that was accomplished, he sat beside her, stroking her leg gently and raptly staring as if he could will the illness away.
Lizzy smiled through drooping eyes and patted his hand. “Return to your work, dearest. I will be fine and there is no reason for you to hover.”
Yet hover he did, repeatedly asking if there was anything she required and not concentrating on the pile of papers on his desk for more than ten minutes at a time. Therefore, although she continued to suffer from a mild headache and transient nausea, the combination of foreknowledge regarding her husband's full docket and the fact that his watchfulness was frankly driving her insane motivated Lizzy to bluntly order him to leave. She felt a bit guilty for the necessary rudeness, but once he was finally persuaded to go, she and Georgiana breathed a huge sigh of relief.
The first three days in Town passed quietly and quickly. Georgiana and Elizabeth enjoyed their hours together, since they had spent so little time in solitary communion over the past week. The Bingleys, with Mary and Kitty, would be arriving the day before Lizzy's birthday. As of yet, the appearance of the Darcys to London had sparked no interest, although they both understood that the barrage of invitations and calling cards were inevitable. By day two, Lizzy was almost one hundred percent well with only the usual vague queasiness and food aversions, which were becoming rather normal to her. After two nights of deep sleep in her husband's arms, even her annoying fatigue had vanished. As she had done during her early days at Pemberley, she utilized the time while Darcy was away to wander about the house.
Darcy House was tiny and nondescript compared to the opulence and vastness of Pemberley, but when contrasted with the other manors in and around Grosvenor Square, it was majestic. Constructed of polished white stone, it appeared to glow. Numerous tall, arched, multi-paned windows spaced evenly across the entire front allowed beams of light to illuminate all the rooms. Although possessing far fewer rooms than Pemberley, at two stories high, not counting the basement level, and nearly an entire block wide, Darcy House was spacious and accommodating. The sizable and impressive library was also Darcy's study, the enormous parlor housed the grand pianoforte, and there was only one dining room but it was expansive and lavish. The ballroom was generous, if a fourth of Pemberley's, and the billiard room, a necessity in a Darcy household, included a host of gaming features and was ample. The eight guest chambers were comfortable, luxurious, and modern if relatively modest in size.
The master chambers were located on the first floor and opened onto a walled private garden. These rooms were immense and decorated with Darcy's preferred rustic tones and simplicity. When Elizabeth had toured the house during their engagement, she had been shown every room except for Darcy's. They had not specifically discussed it at the time, but propriety as well as the heightened sensual awareness they both experienced, especially Darcy, during Elizabeth's visit had lent unease to the idea of entering his bedroom. As her husband would confess to her later, having her in his home and so near his bedchamber had nearly broken his will. For the four weeks prior, except for the occasion of their
first kiss, Darcy had been the perfect gentleman. His desire for Lizzy had been rigidly controlled and aside from his eyes, which hid nothing, Lizzy had not fully recognized the struggle he daily and hourly fought.
Now, as Lizzy walked through the house she remembered those incidents with a smile. On their first night in Town, Darcy had hosted them all for dinner. With only time for a short tour to the main rooms, they had retired to the dining room for dinner then after to the parlor. Lizzy had delighted in noting Darcy's relaxation and high humor throughout the evening. She well understood how difficult it was for him to spend day after day at Longbourn with the press of visitors and family augmented by her mother's shrill voice and incessant chatter, which is the primary reason she had requested her father chaperone his daughters. Her heart ached at her fiancé's discomfort, and it was with massive relief that she witnessed his contentment now. Therefore, when she observed Darcy's back as he unobtrusively exited the room, she frowned and did not hesitate. With a quick look around, she slipped out the door to follow. She found him on the small terrace, standing perfectly still as he gazed into the sky. With a smile, she paused on the threshold to admire him; the faint porch light glistening on his hair, long legs and broad shoulders so elegantly displayed by the fine clothing and straight posture, and the calmly authoritative stateliness he exuded.
“William?”
He turned to her with a wistful smile on his face. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, “I was dreaming about you and here you are, as if conjured.”
She laughed softly, taking several steps closer to him. “Not quite that magical I am afraid. I saw you leave the parlor and wanted to make sure you were well and,” she hesitated, blushing slightly, “I wished to be alone with you,” she finished in a small voice, glancing away.
He closed the gap between them and lightly touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Then it is magic, for I wished the same and here you are.” His voice was low and husky. Their eyes met and it was magic: the magic of mutual desire and love. Instantly, they were both transported to the day of his proposal and first kiss in Longbourn's garden. Since that day, they had maintained the proper decorum and distance as promised, the kisses and touches shared brief and chaste with nary a hint of their longing that bubbled under the surface. For Lizzy, that morning had taken on a dreamlike quality and she had almost convinced herself that the passion which had flared was not as strong or as real as it had seemed. Darcy, naturally, had relived each touch and sensation unrelentingly, especially in his dreams where the emotions and urgency had taken on a life of their own, and it was only his maturity and inordinate self-mastery that contained him during the daylight hours.