Darcy Saga 01 Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy (51 page)

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Authors: Sharon Lathan

Tags: #Shortlist, #Jane Austen Fan Lit

BOOK: Darcy Saga 01 Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy
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Inwardly she recognized a happiness and contentment that anchored her soul. Although there remained an enormous amount of Pemberley's management and the Darcy business affairs that she did not understand, her role as Mistress of Pemberley was a comfortable and accepted one. Her place in the household and the community was firm, and her confidence was secure. This massive house, which had frankly frightened her to death initially, was now home. She no longer walked through the endless halls with feelings of paralyzing awe and unworthiness. In five short months she had grown to love the manor and its surrounds with a devotion transcending anything she had ever felt for Longbourn. Already she missed the library and bedchamber and sitting room and...well, all of it! The approximately six to seven weeks of their planned absence stretched before her as an empty sadness despite her excitement to see her family, and it was necessary to exert every ounce of self will to not rush inside for one last glance.

At that moment her husband strode out the door with the purposeful and powerful gait uniquely his own, mien intense and serious as he imparted a few last minute instructions to his steward. He paused as Mr. Keith commented about something. Lizzy smiled in admiration at the picture he presented. Commanding all to attention as he stood with shoulders back, masculine six-foot-three-inch frame erect and impeccably dressed, elegant and regal, with sonorant voice authoritative. Pure potent love and incredible pride burst through her as a wave. All that she had become in these past months was due to him. His love for her, his devotion and respect, his loyalty and faith in her capabilities, his steadfastness and latitude, and most importantly his intuitive comprehension of her temperament, perceptions, and requirements collectively encouraged her to blossom into the woman she now was.

He nodded in finality, shook the steward's hand, and turned to his sister and wife. Instantly his face lit with a beaming smile, and although no less noble or masterful, his countenance softened considerably.

"My dears, are you ready?"

"Waiting for you brother."

"Come then," and he offered an arm to each of his two favorite women in the entire world. He assisted Georgiana into the coach first, made sure she settled comfortably, and then turned to Lizzy inquiring with deep concern, "Are you well, beloved?"

"I am fine, William. Do not fuss so." She patted his cheek and took his offered hand.

Leaning close and wholly indifferent to the hovering servants, he kissed her forehead. "I will fuss whether you wish it so or not, Mrs. Darcy. Therefore you may as well own to any discomfort you have immediately to save me perpetually questioning!"

He assisted her into the carriage, following behind, as she laughed. The truth was that she had been increasingly indisposed for the past five days. She had attempted to hide her infirmity from Darcy, but this was a fruitless endeavor. His eagle-eyed scrutiny and intimacy with all matters regarding his wife had penetrated any guile she ventured. The physician had examined her yesterday and confirmed that which they had presumed: she was definitely with child. Despite previously harboring little doubt, the Darcys greeted the validation with jubilance. If her queasiness and extreme fatigue prevented her from literally jumping for joy, her heart was leaping. Darcy was nearly beside himself with euphoria, and only Lizzy pleading with him to enlighten their families first kept him from informing all of Derbyshire.

The doctor had given her a clean bill of health, assuring them both that her symptoms, albeit difficult, were completely standard. He guessed that the worst of her nausea and lethargy would pass in a month or so, at about which time quickening would occur. He had spoken to them both at length and bluntly as to what to expect. As for the trip itself, he saw no reason to postpone or cancel, merely urging to take it slowly. In light of the occasional mild headaches Lizzy suffered as a lingering effect of her trauma coupled now with pregnancy, it was wise and essential to not overextend.

With this in mind Darcy had plotted the normally one day trip to Netherfield as a two-day journey, departure not until mid-morning when Lizzy usually felt better. So here they now were at nearly eleven o'clock and finally wheeling south on the long Pemberley drive. The two carriages with their luggage, Samuel, Marguerite, and Mrs. Annesley had left earlier. A courier had been dispatched to London the week prior to prepare Darcy House and another to Hertfordshire for the Bingleys and Bennets. Lizzy sat close to Darcy, gazing out the open window until Pemberley, with Mr. Keith and Mrs. Reynolds waving their adieus, completely disappeared from view. With a heavy sigh, she nestled under his out-stretched arm and he hugged her tightly. "I miss it already," she said.

"I always feel that way too," Georgiana replied, "until I get to London. There is so much to entertain! The symphony, the plays, the park across from our townhouse, the little paddle boats on the lake..."

"The shopping," Darcy interrupted with a grin.

Georgiana blushed, "Yes, the shopping as well, although it is you, dear brother, who insist I obtain new gowns and the like. In the end, you buy more for me than I acquire for myself!"

Lizzy laughed. "Somehow that does not surprise me."

Darcy was unfazed, "I shall not apologize in providing for and spoiling the women in my life."

"Elizabeth, you will so enjoy the shopping. We can purchase baby items! Oh, how wonderful it will be." Georgiana glowed and clapped her hands in enthusiasm.

The older Darcys smiled indulgently, Lizzy personally too weary and queasy to visualize tromping through the clogged, odiferous streets of London as anything less than horrible. In truth, she was taking this entire excursion one step at a time. Currently she only focused on seeing her family and proudly squiring her handsome husband about. As shameful as the emotion was she experienced fresh surges of vanity at how wonderful he was in every conceivable way as far as she was concerned, and how amazing that he belonged to her. She glanced up at his face as he exchanged pleasant conversation with his sister, his lush voice vibrating through her body where she pressed against his side. Six months ago, she thought her love for him stronger and deeper than her heart could contain, yet it was as a single star in the array of the endless heavens compared to now.

He met her eyes, smiling sweetly as he stroked her cheek then kissed her briefly. He repositioned his body slightly sideways so she could recline onto his chest, long legs stretched completely across the spacious carriage interior. She dozed for short spells throughout the journey, snacking sporadically from the generous provisions provided by Mrs. Langton, while Darcy read.

The trip was uneventful, arriving safely at the inn Darcy had secured near Northampton. Lizzy had a moderate headache from the unrelenting sun and jostling which she had successfully hid from her husband for the past hour. However, when she exited the carriage, Darcy aiding her, a flash of light reflecting off a glass window of the inn pierced her brain as a bolt. She cried in pain, reflexively released Darcy's hand to press palms to throbbing temples, and crumbled to her knees.

"Elizabeth!" She was in his arms within the span of a heartbeat, Darcy barking orders sending servants dashing to obey. It was all rather a daze to Elizabeth, head hammering and stomach churning. In record time, she found herself lying on a plush bed with a cold compress over her face, a frantic Darcy at her shivering side.

"Here, my love, drink this. I do not believe you have consumed enough fluids today. An error of mine that I shall not repeat. Marguerite," he turned to Lizzy's maid standing nearby, "please retrieve Mrs. Darcy's blue gown and robe." He assisted Lizzy with the glass, unbuttoning her dress as she drank.

"Darling, I will be fine in a moment," she began shakily, but he halted her by pushing the half-empty glass against her lips.

"Hush now, Elizabeth. You need to rest. Drink, that is an order, and then you must sleep. I will have dinner brought to us later."

"No, William! I will rest here as you wish, but you go and dine with Georgie. Spend the evening with her as we planned. Marguerite will stay with me." He started to protest but she interrupted, "It is merely a headache from the light. My own stupidity for not shutting the shades. It will fade quickly; they always do. You need to eat a complete meal."

He argued further, but Marguerite assured him she would send for him if needed. As Lizzy was already slipping into a doze, he reluctantly relented. By the time he returned several hours later, she was awake, had eaten a hearty dinner, and the headache had dissipated. She sat on the balcony gazing at the stars when he joined her. She nestled onto his lap, cuddling contentedly, and they talked quietly. She appeared rested and in her usual lively humor, but he remained anxious for her health, internally chastising himself for not lowering the shades.

He kissed the top of her head where it nestled so perfectly under his chin, his arms tightening around her body. "As delightful as it is to stargaze with you I insist we retire. You need your rest for the remainder of our journey, and I will not risk the health of you or our child."

"You worry unnecessarily, my love. The headache has vanished, I slept so am well rested, ate an excellent dinner, and am currently blissfully embraced by my handsome husband. What more could a woman possibly want?" She smiled up at his anxious face, wiggled closer, nestled her face into his neck, and bestowed a light kiss. "Actually," she said, imparting another kiss, "I do have a marvelous idea." She slid one hand under the hem of his shirt, nibbled on one earlobe, and slipped the tip of her tongue into his ear. "A final activity to fully restore my health."

"Elizabeth," he sighed, eyes shutting in pleasure, "we should wait until... settled at Netherfield...please..." Moans interrupted words as she firmly situated his hand on a breast while her lips traveled deliciously along his jaw. "Your headache could return, beloved, listen to me..."

Lizzy stopped his voice by seizing his lower lip and sucking gently. Darcy moaned again, unconsciously rocking a burgeoning arousal into her bottom and rubbing her breast.

"You talk too much, Fitzwilliam."

"No one has ever accused me of that!"

She smiled and began seductively stroking and kissing him. He earnestly struggled to dissuade her, but to no avail. Lizzy's obstinacy was manifest in a myriad of ways, and one was when she desired him. Of course, Darcy never strived to avoid romantic activities with his wife, so he was not well experienced in how to do so!

Lizzy laughed at his stammering opposition. "I want to love you, Fitzwilliam, any way you desire. I crave your touch on my skin and your body on mine. I hunger to bring you pleasure and show you how ardent my love for you." She kissed his eager mouth passionately, overwhelming senses with her breath and insistence. Pulling away finally, she whispered, "Take me to bed, my lover."

He stared into her eyes for a moment longer, searching carefully for any residual pain or fatigue, but only sheer desire and love shone forth. With a sigh, gripping her securely in strong arms, he stood and entered their bedchamber. The inn's bed was not as large as Pemberley's ,or as fine, but it was comfortable. Darcy sat on the edge, lying his wife gently back onto the downy comforter while kissing her lovely mouth.

Pulling back mere inches, he stroked the hair from her face, twining silky tresses about his fingers as he gazed at her. "Elizabeth, you are incredibly beautiful. With each day your loveliness increases. I do not comprehend how it is possible, yet it is true."

In typical Darcy fashion he alternately caressed, kissed, and nibbled over each delicate facial feature, all the while murmuring endearments and praises for the beauty of his wife. Lizzy's eyes were closed, her senses reeling with her husband's words of devotion and heated touch. Darcy paused at her lips, running feathery fingertips over her flesh, observing her rising passion with tremendous satisfaction and indescribable happiness. "Elizabeth," he whispered, "my wife, my lover." He slid his tongue over her lower lip as she sighed. "Mine forever, beloved...Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth had long ago succumbed to the amazing reality of her husband, but the magnificence of his physique never failed to overwhelm her. His potent masculinity and virility and stamina continually stunned her. The sensations they roused in each other at the tiniest touch, or even at a look, staggered her still, yet she embraced it as a heaven-gifted expression of the extraordinary bonding love they shared. After nearly six months of marriage, their passion only grew stronger, their lovemaking as necessary as breathing, with rarely a day passing without gratifying release and blissful devotion to the other achieved, often more than once. They occasionally purposed to experiment with some new technique from the books or a fantasy, yet usually their movements simply evolved naturally at the moment. Opportunities arose spontaneously and were latched onto with zeal, neither hesitant to try something new. Trust was unwavering, love unmatched, and desire to please the other first of paramount importance. Selfless giving was the central goal.

Tonight was different only in Darcy's residual apprehension, which induced him to proceed in a reserved manner despite Lizzy's clear desire for a wild interlude. In the end, she would not care, as their mutual rapture was as blissful and blinding as always.

Slowly reality and strength returned to them both. Lizzy moved first, turning in his arms and encircling his shuddering, damp skin, and bestowing a lingering kiss. "I love you," they said concurrently and then chuckled, kissing one another tenderly.

Smoothing the tangled hair off her forehead, he kissed a perfectly arched brow. "Are you well, my love?"

"I am divine but sleepy. Hold me, William?"

"Forever, Elizabeth. Forever."

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