Darcy Saga 01 Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy (23 page)

Retiring again to the parlor after dinner, the atmosphere relaxed further. Some light entertainment was engaged in, Mrs. Fitzwilliam being quite accomplished on the pianoforte, but primarily it was an amiable setting for deeper communication as they sipped tea and brandy. Lady Matlock spoke adoringly of Derbyshire and Pemberley, reminiscing to Lizzy of her own days as a new bride relocating to an unfamiliar land.

"You have seen Pemberley, I am taken to understand?" Lizzy affirmed Lady Matlock's inquiry. "It may seem imposing, Miss Bennet, but the Darcys have made it a home. And never fear, Fitzwilliam is the soul of patience and kindness. You will be most happy there, I am sure."

Lizzy blushed faintly. "Thank you, Your Ladyship. I am anticipation itself. I have no doubts that Mr. Darcy will lead me gently."

She smiled up at her betrothed, who stood nearby with Richard at his side. He smiled faintly in return, eyes sparkling.

Richard nodded, his eyes mischievous as he gazed to his cousin's face. "Indeed, Mr. Darcy is patience personified. All can attest to the fact. Even his horses declare it so!" They collectively laughed, Darcy blushing slightly but meeting Richard's teasing gaze.

"Sadly a lesson I could never impart to you, cousin. Your horses habitually choose to throw you rather than listen to instruction."

"That happened one time, and I was fifteen and the horse refused to jump that creek!" He turned to Lizzy with a chuckle and sly glance toward Darcy. "He, braggart, was twelve with a horse larger than mine and cleared the creek without hesitation! Very well, I concede. You are the superior horseman. I, on the other hand, excel at dancing and witty conversation."

"You are now witness, Miss Bennet, to what shall henceforth pervade your existence whenever these two are in the same room together." Lady Matlock interjected with a laugh. "They delight in baiting the other, have since they were children, and likely will be doing so in their senility."

"Miss Bennet knows it to be true, having confessed to me the dreadfulness of William's dancing and conversation in Hertfordshire."

Lizzy laughed gaily. "Colonel! You tease as well as color the truth. I said that Mr. Darcy refused to dance, not that he danced poorly. He quite proved his skill at the Netherfield Ball, dancing with the grace of a gazelle."

"Grace of a gazelle? High praise, indeed. Is this true, Fitzwilliam?" Lord Matlock grinned at his nephew's discomfiture.

Darcy coughed, color high but face alit with humor as he gazed upon his impish fiancee, "Miss Bennet is being generous, as always. I managed to avoid stepping on her feet or making a total fool of myself, but in my particular case it remains fortunate that dancing skills and engaging repartee are not the only inducements to affection."

They all smiled and chuckled, even Jonathan. "Quite so," he offered. "I abhor dancing and socializing more so than you, William, and that is saying something, yet my wife tolerates me. One's beguilements and personality can be well hidden secrets for only select individuals to divine."

"I concur, Mr. Fitzwilliam," Lizzy nodded. "Rather like a fine bottle of aged red wine. The cork must be removed; the wine poured out and allowed to breathe. One must wait patiently for the aroma to rise in the air to captivate those who wish to partake of its delights. The wine warms in the glass as the flavor softens and mellows, exposing its true essence." She paused, her gaze locked on Darcy's startled but tender eyes as he focused on her to the exclusion of all others in the room. "Some people are structured so and are abundantly worth the wait," she finished in a soft whisper.

"Well spoken, Miss Bennet," Lady Matlock glanced between the two lovers and then shared a pointed look with her husband.

As they were preparing to leave, Lord Matlock took Darcy aside for a private exchange. "I like her, my boy, enormously. There is absolutely no doubt she loves you. Her father is a gentleman and their manners are impeccable."

"Thank you, sir. Your opinion means a great deal to me." Darcy smiled slightly, privately thanking Lizzy's maneuvering to ensure that her father and not her mother had accompanied her.

Lord Matlock peered at his nephew intently. "Nonetheless, what if I do not approve? She is not quite in your class, manners notwithstanding. What if I agree with your Aunt Catherine?"

Darcy returned his gaze with the same intensity. "Sir, I would be grieved, as I am with Lady Catherine's attitude. However, my choices are just that... mine. Elizabeth is my life. I am nothing without her."

Lord Matlock nodded, still watching his nephew's face. "And Pemberley?"

Darcy was silent, thinking how to respond. "I understand what you are asking, sir. All my adult life I have placed Pemberley's needs before my own." He paused. "I believe I have been a worthy Master of Pemberley, that I have carried the Darcy name proudly. I searched long and hard for a woman of quality, someone strong and brave, intelligent and wise, empathetic and giving. All the characteristics the Mistress of Pemberley must have. I am not a fool, Uncle. Elizabeth has all this and so much more. I have fallen in love with a woman my equal, if not superior. Yet all of this is inconsequential compared to the fact that she loves me and I her. Her paramount value is in this truth."

Lord Matlock smiled then, a bright smile. "Your father would be very proud of you, Fitzwilliam, as would your mother. They loved each other, as you know. It is an emotion uncommon in our society. Both of them were better human beings because of it. I do approve of your Miss Bennet. You have my blessing, for what it is worth," he ended wryly.

Lord and Lady Matlock attended the wedding, as did their two sons. Lady Catherine was not invited, having ignored Darcy's second attempt at reconciliation. He would make no further gestures. Miss de Bourgh was invited and sent a gift along with her heartfelt blessings. Unfortunately she could not attend without her mother. Darcy's happiness was so profound that he spared little energy in grief over his aunt. As Lizzy had said, it would eventually resolve itself or it would not. They were one now, and that was all that truly mattered to either of them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A Surprise for Poor Samuel

E
LIZABETH?
W
AKE UP, MY
love." Darcy sat next to his sleeping wife, gently smoothing her hair as he whispered softly into her ear. "I cannot leave without a farewell." He kissed behind her ear tenderly. "Lizzy? Open your eyes."

"William?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Indeed," he laughed softly, "who else would it be?"

She yawned and stretched, opening her eyes briefly before nestling deeper into the mattress. "Come back to bed," she murmured. "I am cold."

Darcy smiled and tucked the thick covers about her. "I must go, love. Mr. Keith is waiting for me. You can return to your slumber, but I had to tell you I love you before I left." He kissed her forehead and cheek and then her lips. It was a mistake... her arms somehow freed themselves from the snugly placed covers and twined about his neck as she drowsily pulled him into her embrace, deepening the tiny kiss he meant to bestow.

He sighed and happily gave in to her demands for a moment. With regret he untangled her hands from his hair, kissing each palm. She was dazedly looking at him, still more asleep than awake. "Why are you dressed? What time is it?" She started to rise, but he restrained her.

"Remember, dearest? I need to inspect the fisheries today. I shall return for dinner, I promise." Her hands were clasped in his and he kissed her fingers. "I shall pine for you terribly and will be thinking of you incessantly." He chuckled mildly. "So much so that I am not sure how effectual I will actually be! It shall be a test of my fortitude."

She was fully awake now. Aware that it was absolutely ludicrous but unable to curb her emotions, she felt tears burn her eyes and her chin beginning to quiver. In a small voice she said, "I shall be desolate without you, Fitzwilliam. Please be careful and return quickly!"

Oh, the power she had over his faculties! Why was it that every time she spoke his full name he melted? With a groan he kissed her energetically, wrapping his arms about her as best he could with blankets and a comforter in the way. He stroked her back and readjusted his body so he was lying next to her, some tiny part of his foolish brain conjecturing that as he was clothed and she under the covers, his control could be maintained.
Only a few kisses
, he told himself,
to placate me during my separation from her
.

It was some twenty minutes later before he arose from the bed. The few kisses had evolved into far greater diversions. Lizzy was akin to a slippery eel in her ability to extricate herself from swaddled covers. Darcy could not relate how it occurred, but in no time at all, she was on top of the comforter, limbs entwined with his. Thoughts of timetables, schedules, and prior commitments fled under the forces rushing through his body. Even after two weeks of marriage and the passion that had inundated his existence, he was still amazed at how rapidly he responded to her touch; nay, even her presence was enough! His arousal was immediate and marked, his need for her vehement.

Somehow his coat was discarded haphazardly, but the remainder of his clothing stayed, neither of them wishing for the delay. One would assume they had not made love in months instead of just the previous night, their hunger raging and consuming them as it did. Their lovemaking was frenzied but no less rhapsodic.

As he buttoned his breeches and straightened his waistcoat, smiling at his divine wife, his love was too profound to experience any regret. He was behind schedule now, but the memory of her and the tingling sensations coursing through his veins vastly outweighed any time concerns.

He finished adjusting his rumpled clothing as she arose from the bed, standing before him in all her glory. She buttoned his jacket and tamed his mussed hair with her fingers. "There," she said, "you are presentable. And tremendously handsome, I daresay." She smiled and kissed him lingeringly.

"I love you, Mrs. Darcy, and shall miss you." His hands traveled over her body and he nuzzled her neck, planting one last kiss on her earlobe before he pulled away. As if fearful of losing his restraint yet again, he turned abruptly and strode rapidly to the door, pausing for one last look and a devastating smile as he closed the door behind him.

Lizzy sighed, eyeing the bed but knew she would not be able to return to sleep. Besides, she did have plans for herself today. She retrieved her nightgown from the floor wondering, not for the first time, why she even bothered donning one each night. Her husband did delight in removing it, she mused with a becoming blush, which was an incentive to maintain the habit.

Their sitting room felt emptier without Darcy, and Lizzy did not like dining alone, so she ate quickly. This was the first day in over two weeks that they would be apart for more than an hour or two. Even when Darcy had needed to attend to business, he had been brief or had worked while she sat nearby. The realities of life at Pemberley were gradually invading their idyllic solitude. Darcy had postponed today's outing for several days, but he could no longer ignore his responsibilities. It was sad; however, Lizzy was determined not to mope about but instead to benefit from the time alone.

First, she met with Mrs. Reynolds in her parlor. Over the past week, they had conversed on a number of occasions, primarily about the Christmas festivities. Lizzy was gradually growing more comfortable with the housekeeper and had began inquiring about other topics relating to the manor's management and tasks that she should eventually assume.

Mrs. Reynolds was all that Darcy had declared she was: benevolent, amicable, patient, supportive, and incredibly elated to have Lizzy as mistress.

Mr. Keith had graciously penned a detailed report of all the Pemberley tenants and their families. Lizzy's initial task with Mrs. Reynolds was to discuss the holiday gift boxes for the tenants. This was an old tradition that had been maintained over the years but without the personal touch of a Mistress. Lizzy decided this was a perfect commencement of her duties and a splendid way to acquaint herself with the folks who devoted their service to Pemberley.

She hoped that Georgiana would wish to accompany her. Darcy had never insisted on Georgiana undertaking the tasks properly expected of the Mistress of Pemberley since this was not her role and she was too young. However, he did believe it imperative that she learn what being the mistress of an estate entailed since she would someday marry. He and Lizzy had conferred and decided that Lizzy joining the family afforded an ideal opportunity for them to be educated together.

Using a map of the estate and her knowledge of the surrounding area, Mrs. Reynolds figured it would take two to three days to deliver the packages, allowing time to socialize. A rough agenda was laid for the days prior to Christmas. The gifts were to be individualized based on each family's needs. That was where Mr. Keith's and Darcy's intimate knowledge proved to be invaluable. Darcy had been proud of Lizzy when she broached the subject of tackling this chore. He had willingly put aside his own business, and they had sat for more than two hours talking about the tenants while Lizzy jotted down the information. Mrs. Reynolds imparted personal tidbits about the children and wives. Armed with this data, Lizzy had dictated meticulous lists of purchases to be made, victuals to be prepared, and game to be dressed for each family.

Next, they finalized the menus for Christmas Eve and Day. Mrs. Langton managed the kitchens with an iron fist and required little in the way of instruction. Lizzy had requested the inclusion of some of her personal favorite dishes and asked to be shown the daily menu for her approval, yet other than that, no changes needed to be made. As far as the holiday preparations were concerned, Mrs. Langton was abundantly capable, having served the Darcy family for more than twenty years. Although Lizzy had heard rumors of Mrs. Langton's grousing about the extra work, Mrs. Reynolds assured her that the cook was never happier than when overtaxed and that her belligerence was a well-honed personality trait used to perfection in her superior management of the kitchen staff.