Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley

Chapter One Hertfordshire

Elizabeth Darcy stood next to Georgiana on the massive portico before the main doors to Pemberley. They were dressed in their traveling clothes and were waiting patiently for the Master of Pemberley, who was currently speaking with his steward, Mr. Keith, while the grandest and plushest of the Darcy carriages waited in the drive.

The warmth of May in Derbyshire had set in full force, making the days radiant with bright sunshine until late into the evening. The vast gardens of Pemberley were responding to the weather as Mr. Clark and his staff diligently engineered the grounds, which were now bursting in nearly eye-piercing splendor with every color of the rainbow. Every species of tree indigenous to England, and many that were not, enhanced the landscape with diverse shades of green and leaves in a multitude of shapes and sizes. Lizzy had regained her strength and mobility by traversing the miles of pathways weaving through the varied gardens. The by-product of her wanderings was a familiarity with and a deepening love for this place that was now her home.

Lizzy dreamily mused at how tremendously she had changed in the nearly five and a half months since she ascended the steps to Pemberley as a nervous bride. Outwardly, her entire appearance was drastically altered; gowns, jewels, and furs beyond her vaguest imaginings six months ago were now typical. Her hair, even in its traveling coif, was superior to anything she had ever fashioned previously. She was largely unaware of it, but there was a serenity and grace to her bearing that had not been present before. She would forever laugh spontaneously and carry a ready quip on her lips, but her character was notably more refined and softened. The minute gestures and vocal intonations associated with the social etiquette of the upper classes had permeated her being unconsciously.

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, he was 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 mostly his intuitive comprehension of her temperament, perceptions, and requirements 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,” he said, offering an arm to each of his two favorite women in the entire world. He assisted Georgiana into the carriage 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 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. Although her queasiness and extreme fatigue prevented her from actually 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 totally 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 them 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 not to overextend.

With this in mind, Darcy had plotted the normally one-day trip to Netherfield as a two-day journey, departure planned for mid-morning, when Lizzy usually felt better. So here they now were at nearly eleven o’clock and finally pulling out of 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 outstretched 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 elder Darcys smiled indulgently, Lizzy 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 being squired about by her handsome husband. 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 and then kissed her briefly. He repositioned his body slightly sideways, long legs stretched completely across the spacious carriage interior, so she could recline onto his chest. She dozed for short spells throughout the journey, snacking sporadically from the generous provisions while Darcy read.

The trip was uneventful, their carriage arriving safely at the inn Darcy had secured near Northampton. From the unrelenting sun and jostling, Lizzy had a moderate headache 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 that sent servants dashing to obey. It was all rather a daze to Elizabeth, her 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 said, turning 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 is to blame. It will fade quickly, these headaches always do. You need to eat a complete meal.”

He argued further, but Marguerite assured him she would send for him if needed, and 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 in hushed tones. 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”—another kiss—“I do have a marvelous idea”— sliding one hand under the hem of his shirt—“for a final activity”—nibbling on an earlobe—“to fully restore my health”—slipping the tip of her tongue into his ear.

“Elizabeth,” he sighed, eyes shutting in pleasure, “we should wait until”—he gasped as a nipple was grazed—“settled at Netherfield… please…” Moans interrupted words as she firmly situated his hand on a breast, while 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 was not well experienced in how to do so!

Lizzy laughed at his stammering opposition and met passion-darkening eyes. “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 is.” She kissed his eager mouth passionately, overwhelming his 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, 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”—sliding his tongue over her lower lip as she sighed—“mine forever, beloved”—wet tip over the upper lip then slowly sucking between his own—“Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth had long succumbed to the amazing reality of her husband. The magnificence of his physique never failed to overwhelm her. His potent masculinity, 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 in some manner. They occasionally purposed to experiment with some new technique from the books or an imagined fantasy, yet usually their movements simply evolved naturally at the moment. Opportunities arose spontaneously and were latched onto with zeal, neither of them hesitant to try something new. Trust was unwavering, love unmatched, and desire to please the other first of paramount importance, selfless giving 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 did not care, their mutual rapture as blissful and blinding as always.

Slowly, reality and strength returned to them both. Lizzy moved first, turning in his arms that encircled her shuddering, damp skin and bestowed a lingering kiss. “I love you,” they spoke concurrently, then chuckled, kissing 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.”

The next day dawned as bright and lovely as the previous one. Lizzy felt better than she had in the past week, not even a twinge of morning nausea; however, Darcy insisted on tarrying their departure to be sure. He kept the shades partially drawn and had assured plenty of snacks and liquids packed in the carriage. Lizzy was so continually plied with cups of lemonade and water that frequent stops for physical necessities were required, prolonging the journey. Even so, they arrived at Netherfield by mid-afternoon, greeted enthusiastically by Charles and Jane.

Lizzy's feet barely made contact with solid earth before she was dashing into her sister's embrace. A short curtseyed greeting to Mr. Bingley, and then the two women headed into the manor, arm-in-arm and heads touching as their words spilled over one another.

“Well, Darcy old chap,” Mr. Bingley exclaimed by way of greeting, “there you have it. I believe we have been abandoned!”

Darcy smiled indulgently. “Only temporarily, Bingley. Surely they will exhaust their reminiscences and confidences in three or four days and then come crawling back to their mere husbands.”

Bingley laughed. “Miss Darcy, I trust you are well? Was the trip too difficult?”

“I am perfect, Mr. Bingley, thank you. And the trip was easy.”

They made their way into the house, Bingley asking after Lizzy's health. “She suffered a headache last evening, but today is well. They occur occasionally still but with lessening intensity and frequency. The physician assures us it is to be expected.” They had agreed to announce their news once the entire family was together that evening. Darcy privately doubted Lizzy's ability to keep their joy from her sister for even those few hours, but he would not renege on their vow.

“Mr. Bingley, have you prepared the same room for me as before?”

“Yes, Georgiana, we did. Your brother assured me this was your preference.”

“Oh, yes! The view is amazing. Thank you. Brother, Mr. Bingley, if you do not mind, I think I would like to rest a bit.”

“Of course, dear.” Darcy watched her mount the stairs with a smile. “I doubt she is the least bit tired, but male companionship is decidedly boring to a seventeen-year-old girl. I, on the other hand, am in need of a drink. Lead the way, Charles.”

Laughing, they made their way into the billiard room, where Bingley poured a whiskey for them both. Sitting onto a comfortably cushioned chair with a sigh of relief, Darcy studied his friend's face. “You look well, Bingley. Marriage agrees with you also, I presume?”

“Very much. I do not require asking you the same question, Darcy. It is evident. By the way, I prepared your room as you requested. The same room you inhabited on your previous visits. A single room.” He paused, blushing mildly, the question unasked.

Darcy placidly sipped his drink, gazing at Bingley with amusement, remaining silent.

After a spell, Bingley continued, “Jane was concerned. There is a lovely bedchamber next to yours if…”

“One room will be all that is necessary. I selected that bedchamber when you and I dwelt here last year based on the view and décor. Mrs. Darcy has similar tastes. She will appreciate it with the same enthusiasm, and I am aware of the attached dressing room.” He smiled at Bingley's ruddy face. “One bedchamber will be adequate.”

Bingley cleared his throat. “So, tell me about the duel. I wish I could have witnessed the encounter.” His eyes were bright with a youthful zeal. “I almost pity the fool who would willingly take you on, Darcy.”

Darcy smiled grimly, but proceeded to tell the tale.

Down the hall in the parlor, Lizzy and Jane were sharing tea and sisterly conversation. They sat side by side on the sofa chatting companionably, Lizzy sharing her version of the horrific events leading up to and including the duel. Jane shuddered. “How awful, Lizzy. We were so worried. Papa wanted to leave for Pemberley immediately, but Mama was ill with anxiety and begged him to stay.” Lizzy made a face but said nothing. Jane continued, “Fortunately, Mr. Darcy sent a second missive soon after informing us of your recovery. Are you wholly restored?”

“Headaches on occasion, that is all. The light, if it is too bright, pains me, but that is lessening. The doctor seems certain that it will resolve in time.” Lizzy laughed. “Between my weakness and William's wounds, we have been quite the pair of invalids!”

Jane shuddered once again. “I do not know how you can jest, Lizzy. A duel with swords! I would faint away if Mr. Bingley did something so reckless.”

“I did not know until after the fact and I scolded him to be sure. Still, it is rather romantic, do you not think, Jane? Also, Orman received his just reward.”

“Has he left Derbyshire?”

“Yes. Apparently, he has an estate in Devonshire. William crippled him. I do not imagine he will hurt any other women.”

“I must confess, I cannot picture Mr. Darcy in such a manner. He is so proper and composed. Medieval dueling simply boggles my mind.”

Lizzy smiled. “I was not surprised in the least. Remember, during our engagement, how we shared our first kiss experiences, Jane?” Jane blushed and nodded. “I spoke then of William's enthusiasm and you were shocked.”

“Please, Lizzy! We should not speak of such things!”

“Oh Jane! You are so silly. We are married women and sisters. If we cannot confide in each other, whom can we talk to?” Lizzy grasped Jane's hands. “I have so missed talking to you! There is no one on earth I can express my joy to as I can to you, dear sister. Are you and Mr. Bingley happy, Jane? You look happy. Please tell me you are as much as William and I!”

“Lizzy, we are extremely happy, but you know it is not my nature to enthuse as you do. You have always yearned for excitement and passion more so than I. There is no doubt you have found both with Mr. Darcy, despite his cool demeanor. Mr. Bingley and I are content and steady in our love, as well as quite joyful.”

“How is it living so close to Mama? Tell me truthfully!” Jane attempted to evade but Lizzy laughed at her. “You say more with no words than with paragraphs, Jane! Truly, you and Mr. Bingley should move closer to us. William intends to discuss it with him. Would you not rather have your own home, Jane?”

Jane seemed uncomfortable. “Charles and I have talked about this very matter, Lizzy. He would like to have his own home—our own home. The question is where. We both love it here and Mama would be so distressed if we left. Charles inquired about purchasing Netherfield, but the family does not wish to permanently part with it.” Jane shook her head. “I leave these decisions to him. He will do what he believes is best.”

Lizzy would have continued the conversation, but the very topics of their discussion entered the parlor at that moment. Darcy went immediately to Jane. “Mrs. Bingley, my wife stole you away forthwith and I did not have the opportunity to greet you properly.” He bowed low over her hand. “Thank you, dear sister, for opening your home to us.”

Jane blushed prettily.

They all parted then to dress for dinner. Lizzy, as Darcy anticipated, adored the rooms selected for them. They were not as plush or spacious as their chambers at Pemberley, but the décor was the same rustic tones they both preferred. When Lizzy rejoined her husband in the tiny sitting room it was to mutual approbation. Darcy, in blue as usual, wore the pale azure waistcoat Lizzy had gifted him at Christmas; he was incredibly handsome and his eyes sparkled as he gazed in admiration at his wife. Lizzy wore a new but simple gown of lavender and gold chenille with the Darcy strand of pearls around her neck, her lush hair elegantly coiffed by Marguerite, as always.

Darcy kissed his wife's hand and then her cheek. “Are you well, beloved?”

“Do you not ever tire of asking me that, Mr. Darcy?” she teased and he laughed, clasping her arm in his as they exited the room.

It was only fifteen minutes later that the Bennet carriage arrived. Mrs. Bennet was honestly at a loss as to whom to gush over first: her daughter in finery and jewels or her illustrious son-in-law. Darcy had discovered early in his engagement that the best way to deal with Lizzy's mother was to politely and formally greet her then pointedly ignore her. This form of subtle intimidation was a pose Mr. Darcy was expert at, and since Mrs. Bennet truthfully did annoy him profoundly, it was a natural response on his part.

He met the problem head on by purposefully placing his towering body directly in her path, seizing her hand smoothly for a brief kiss, and addressing her with a deep bow and voice lower than normal. “Mrs. Bennet. What an absolute delight it is to see you again. If I may be so bold, you are radiant tonight. Blue becomes you, and I daresay you have shed ten years since last we met.”

Without skipping a beat or waiting for a reply—not that one was forthcoming from the stunned Mrs. Bennet—he adroitly stepped to the side and looked at Mr. Bennet. The older man's eyes were twinkling and a cryptic smile, which Darcy had initially found so disconcerting but now delighted in, hovered about his lips. He actually winked at his son-in-law and Darcy solemnly winked back. The two gentlemen bowed and greeted each other formally, barely managing to get the preliminaries out of the way before Lizzy was in her father's arms. Lizzy had jumped at the opportunity provided by her mother's paralysis to greet her father first. Darcy smiled at the obvious joy the two felt at seeing each other after such a long absence. During the engagement, he and Mr. Bennet had developed a relationship bordering on friendship, or at least as close as two men of a nearly thirty-year age gap and vastly differing upbringings could attain. Darcy had been continually amazed at the breadth of the older man's knowledge of literature, science, and politics. Although they argued on some matters, it was in a friendly debating sort of way and they both enjoyed the challenge provided. More and more often, he had found himself secreting away from Mrs. Bennet's boisterous presence to repose in Mr. Bennet's study over brandies and quiet conversation. Lizzy had learned that it was the usual place to find her betrothed when he mysteriously disappeared.

“Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet declared with heartfelt relief, “my Lizzy! I have missed you so.” Darcy turned away to greet his new sisters and to allow father and daughter a moment. Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet had recovered her voice and the private interlude was interrupted with her shrill exclamations. Lizzy was captured in a soft embrace and female prattling as both her mother and Kitty descended upon her. Mary, Darcy noted, hung back and was shyly approached by Georgiana, the two young women having formed a tentative friendship prior to the wedding. As the group slowly edged their way into the parlor, Darcy lingered to the rear, as did Mr. Bennet.

“Mr. Darcy, my daughter appears well. Quite well, in fact. I want to thank you for your constant correspondence during her illness. I am sure it must not have been easy for you to take the time.”

“You are welcome, sir. Nothing about that episode was easy, but it is behind us now and she has nearly fully recovered.” Mr. Bennet detected the note of strain in the younger man's voice and the hint of residual pain in his eyes despite Darcy's careful regulation. He smiled. Any doubts he may have had initially of Darcy's affection toward Lizzy had been dispelled within a week of their betrothal. He further saw the evidence of the deep love that had grown between the two already in the glances shared as they made their way into the parlor.

“She is more beautiful than I remember her,” Mr. Bennet continued. “I would not guess her needing to recover any further. She positively glows. Your doing, I am certain.” He glanced slyly at Darcy, who looked at him sharply.

“Whatever do you mean, sir?”

“Calm down, my boy. Any secrets you two have are safe with me for the present. I merely was referring to the flush on her cheeks, the radiant happiness she exudes, and the serenity about her. I am familiar with the pose from Jane, but never Lizzy.” He clapped Darcy on the back as he moved away, “You have made this old gentleman's heart shine, and I thank you.”

Darcy stood there wondering as Mr. Bennet strolled to greet his other son-in-law, catching Lizzy's eyes from across the room. She raised an eyebrow in question with a subtle nod toward her father. He shrugged imperceptibly. Mr. Bennet was far too astute for his own good.

As usual in these family gatherings, Darcy tended to retreat to quiet corners as often as possible. Lizzy and Jane were in the center of a female cluster, all the women seemingly talking at once, Darcy amazed that any of them could distinguish a word the other said. Even his normally bashful sister was caught up in the enthusiasm, which educed a pleased smile.

Dinner was announced; Darcy escorted his wife and sister and was happily ensconced between Lizzy and Mr. Bennet at the table. Conversation flowed in the rather jumbled manner that Darcy associated with the Bennets. Gradually, he had familiarized his sensibilities to what society would universally deem a hideous breach in dining etiquette, seeing beyond the outrageousness of it to recognize the relaxed harmony. It was not comfortable for him, decades of protocol hindering full involvement, but he appreciated it.

He and Lizzy touched clandestinely under the table whenever possible, sparking humorous memories of stolen caresses at this very table during their engagement. Leaning over at one point, Darcy whispered in her ear, “When do you wish to announce our news, beloved?”

She graced him with a beatific smile and a squeeze to his knee. “After dessert, otherwise the entire meal will be delayed.”

By the time the dessert course was served, Darcy was ready to erupt with impatience. Standing suddenly and thereby instantly commanding the attention of all at the table without uttering a word, Darcy cleared his throat. Glancing at his beaming wife, he grasped her hand then addressed the staring group. Only Georgiana knew what was to be declared, and she was grinning.

“Pardon me for the interruption. Elizabeth and I have an announcement that we no longer wish to delay in imparting. We have suspected for some weeks now but have just two days ago had it confirmed.” He paused dramatically, rather enjoying the varying expressions of curiosity, dawning enlightenment, and frank bafflement that graced the features around the table. Lizzy began to giggle under her breath, knowing her staid husband's flair for the theatric. Smiling, he resumed, “Elizabeth's accident created a scare for us, but we now are certain, so can state with confidence, that we will be, roughly sometime in early December, welcoming our first child.”

He kissed her hand as everyone lurched to their feet to converge on the jubilant couple. Darcy's hand was pumped and his back was slapped; Lizzy was hugged and kissed. The party gradually retired to the parlor where Lizzy was plied with questions and baby plans were set in motion. Meanwhile, the gentlemen retreated from the female twittering to celebrate and congratulate the father-to-be with glasses of Bingley's finest port.

As always, Darcy's gaze frequently alit on his wife. Therefore, he readily interpreted her mildly increasing pallor and weakening smile as a sign of fatigue. With alacrity, he weaved his way to her side, smoothly extracting her from the clutches of her family with apologies. Once outside the room, he swept her into his arms, ignoring her protests.

“Darling, I am merely tired not incapacitated!”

“Do not argue with me, Mrs. Darcy. Have you not deduced that I simply create reasons to hold you in my embrace?”

“Oh, is that what you are doing?” she asked, laughing.

“Of course.” He kissed her forehead then grinned. “I figure I better take advantage of the opportunities before you are so rotund that I cannot pick you up.”

The five days they tarried in Hertfordshire were filled with a vast number of visitations and numerous memories.

Sir William Lucas and his wife, Lady Lucas, hosted a dinner party at Lucas Lodge the second evening after the Darcy's arrival. A generous portion of the four and twenty families of distinction attended. Darcy had met most of them at various events during the time of his previous stays in the region, although the impression he had made on the bulk of them had not been favorable. With the exception of the various young ladies in residence, who had overlooked his reserve in recognition of his wealth and position, many of them had simply abandoned any attempt at ingratiation, finding him aloof and impossible to become acquainted with. During his engagement, Darcy had pointedly striven to rectify the damage done and had largely succeeded, except for the previously mentioned young women who then had no interest in him whatsoever.

Nonetheless, aside from Mr. Bingley and Mr. Bennet, not a single man could claim to know him even moderately. In truth, Darcy could care less. Never a man to make friends with ease or to have an abundance of confidants, Darcy saw no point in endeavoring to form relationships in Hertfordshire. This honest assessment had disturbed him only in that he wished to please his fiancée. He had assumed that she, sociable and popular as she was, would desire him to be the same. He was in error. The agony he had suffered over those initial weeks of forced gregariousness had taken their toll on him, Elizabeth noting his constant tension, increased fidgeting, and loss of appetite. In another one of their forthright conversations, she had bluntly confronted him over his obvious distress. He evaded, fearful of her disappointment, but in the end she drew it out of him. With a multitude of assurances, dangerous kisses, and embraces, she finally convinced him that she loved him as he was and that it mattered naught what the people of Hertfordshire thought.

His relief had been palpable. Now, all these months later, confident in his marriage and the mutual admiration he and Elizabeth shared, not to mention his unrelenting joy, Darcy discovered that there were actually several men he rather liked. Bingley, a walking example of congeniality, had readily made friends with nearly every man his age for miles around. The newly relaxed Mr. Darcy rapidly saw his social calendar filled with shooting, horseback riding, a billiard tournament, a turn at the faro tables, and luncheon twice.

Lizzy was delighted to see her husband busily entertained. Knowing that he was happily enjoying himself with Charles and the rest at the various male pursuits he had neglected over the past months gave her the freedom to devote her time elsewhere. Most afternoons were passed at someone's house for tea, Lizzy utilizing the time to renew old friendships. However, her main purpose in visiting home was to be with her family. In a strange turn of events, Darcy became the social butterfly flittering hither and yon, while Lizzy rarely left Longbourn or Netherfield.

Lizzy's pregnancy symptoms vacillated, but her overall health seemed to be improving. She did not suffer a headache the entire time at Hertfordshire and slept very well, so her fatigue was minimal and her morning nausea was mild. Jane assured Darcy that she would keep a close eye on her sister while he was gone. Lizzy merely smiled indulgently at her husband's solicitude, relieved when he apparently abdicated his self-proscribed guard duty, wholly unaware that Jane and every servant in both households were enlisted to watch her carefully and notify him instantly of any troubles.

The men left each day shortly after breakfast, leaving Jane and Lizzy alone. Georgiana and Mary had taken quite a liking to each other, so Mary had been invited to stay at Netherfield and the two girls quickly became inseparable, to everyone's surprise. Darcy had been concerned that Kitty would resent her exclusion, but the opposite was true. Kitty found her sister and Georgiana dull as posts so was perfectly content to be left out.

Lizzy and Jane, therefore, had an abundant amount of time each day to talk. Walking about the Netherfield gardens the morning after their arrival, Jane inadvertently broached the same topic of conversation so amusing to Darcy when Bingley advanced it.

“Lizzy, did you sleep well last night?”

“Very well, thank you, Jane. I woke refreshed and only slightly queasy. Mrs. Reynolds taught Marguerite a tea recipe that nearly always calms my stomach. The tea along with a few pieces of toast before I rise, and I generally avoid any severe illness.”

“That is a relief. I was concerned.”

“You need not worry yourself, Jane. Marguerite dotes on me and has the tray at my bedside before I fully awake. William rings for her as soon as I begin to stir. Between the two of them, I am well cared for.” She laughed at the understatement.

Jane, however, was looking at her in astonishment. “Mr. Darcy is with you every morning? How early does he arise?”

Lizzy was baffled. “He is an early riser, as am I, if you remember. Lately I have tended to sleep later, prompting him to leave for a ride or business before I wake. We are both hoping the physician is correct in this blasted fatigue being of short duration. I hate being tired all the time! I have no patience… Jane, why are you looking at me like that?”

“He comes to your room every morning?! Is he so demanding, as Mother said?”

Lizzy stared for a moment then burst out laughing. “Oh, Jane! Shall I shock you further by confessing that I am every bit as ‘demanding’ as he is? William does not ‘come to me’ in the morning. He never leaves me. Neither of us wishes it otherwise.”

Jane was blushing but studying Lizzy's face closely. “He… shares your room with you?”

“In a manner of speaking. We only have one room. Well, technically, there is his mother's bedchamber, but I do not use it. His chambers are now ours. Jane, do not you and Mr. Bingley ever stay together?”

Jane grew even redder and resumed walking briskly. “Lizzy, we should change the subject.”

“Oh no, dear sister! You tendered the topic. If you assure me that you are perfectly content with your arrangement then I will desist. However, I saw a curiosity in your eyes. Tell me truthfully.” She grasped her sister's arm until she halted.

Jane avoided Lizzy's eyes, but Lizzy could see the tears shimmering. “I do not think Charles wishes to stay with me,” she said in a small voice.

“Why would you think that?”

“He… comes to me frequently and it is wonderful. He holds me for a bit, then he… leaves.”

Lizzy was frowning. “What does he say when you ask him to stay?”

Jane looked at her with absolute mortification. “Ask him to stay? Lizzy, I could never do that!”

“Why ever not? He is your husband. You should be able to discuss all subjects. Perhaps he believes you want him to leave.” Lizzy clasped her sister's arms and intently met her eyes. “Jane, I will not presume to assert that your relationship with Charles should be as mine is with William. However, I will say with confidence that you have listened far too much to Mama's advice. I know several incontrovertible facts. One, sharing a bed with your husband, and sleeping in his arms is heavenly, joyous, blissful, and practical! I was not cold once all winter! Second, the intimacy engendered adds a depth to the relationship beyond comprehension. There is truly not a single matter William and I cannot talk about. We share everything.”

She linked Jane's arm in hers and resumed walking. “I know Mr. Bingley fairly well and believe you would be surprised at how deep his love for you. This is my suggestion. Tonight do not wait for him to come to you. Go to him instead and tell him how you feel. Be bold for once, Jane.”

“I do not know if I can do that, Lizzy.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake, Jane! This is Mr. Bingley and you: the sweetest couple in all of England. He will not bite you!”

That afternoon, after lunch and tea at Longbourn, Lizzy returned to Netherfield for a nap. Darcy and Bingley had been out all day; doing what, she had no idea. She woke to a shadowy room and the pressure of soft lips on her brow. With a happy sigh, she gathered her husband into her arms, pulling him onto the bed.

“Elizabeth, it is time to prepare for dinner. Lucas Lodge, you recall.” Despite his words he planted tender kisses along her neck.

“Later, husband. I have sorely missed you. What have you been up to all day?”

“Bingley wanted to show me some property twenty miles north that he is interested in. I found all manner of distasteful proofs as to why the manor and grounds were unacceptable.”

“You are a devious man, Mr. Darcy! Has anyone ever enlightened you to that fact?”

He assumed a haughty purse to his lips. “Only employing my business acumen in the service of a friend. I know for a certainty that the Hasberry estate in Derbyshire is far superior to this property.”

“And the fact that it sits less than fifteen miles from Pemberley has no bearing whatsoever?”

“Absolutely none. Now kiss me, beloved wife, and then tell me about your day. How are you feeling?”

“Very well. I had a delightful afternoon with my family, a refreshing nap despite the lonely bed, and a most enlightening conversation with Jane this morning.” She proceeded to tell him about her discussion with Jane.

“Interesting,” he murmured, relating his amusing conversation with Bingley about their room assignments. “Lends an added spin to the questioning. Not certain what I can do about it, though. As close as Charles and I are, we do not speak of such things. I am fairly confident he was as innocent as I was upon marriage. More so probably, as his education was not as inclusive and he is younger, less well traveled. His only journey out of England was when we went to France two years ago. I do not warrant him such a slave to convention that he would not deign to sleep with his wife though, and I know how deep his love for Jane.”

“I wish to see them as fulfilled and complete as we are.”

He hugged her to his side. “I know you do, beloved. Yet who are we to say they are not? All relationships are different. However, I will observe Charles and exploit any vantage offered.”

In the end, it was not necessary for either of them to act. All through the dinner party at Lucas Lodge, Jane seemed pensive, eyeing her husband with a lingering, thoughtful gaze. Darcy and Lizzy noticed, exchanging occasional knowing glances.

It was late when they returned to Netherfield. Lizzy was exhausted, actually having fallen asleep on Darcy's shoulder in the carriage. He assisted her up the stairs, murmuring their goodnights to the Bingleys. A brief backward glance as Darcy opened their door, revealed Jane clutching Charles's hand outside Bingley's bedchamber. The last picture visible was Jane snaking her arms about her husband's neck with clear intent before he had even latched the door. Darcy chuckled softly. Unfortunately, his night did not end as blissfully, his wife already soundly asleep when he reentered their chamber. He nestled close, stroking her face gently, happily gazing at her beauty for a half hour or more before sleep claimed him.