Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley

Chapter Twenty-Three Derby

Two hours later, the Darcys entered their carriage and began the twenty mile trek to Derby. As they had previously mutually decided, they wished to purchase the baby's clothing and other requirements from the local communities. Derby, as the county seat and largest town in Derbyshire, would offer the greatest variety of goods. Also, Darcy felt it was high time the wife of Darcy of Pemberley ventured beyond the immediate vicinity and familiarized herself with the broader county she was now indelibly a member of. Therefore, he planned a three- or four-day excursion to a few of the local sights of interest as well as the shopping. Lizzy was very excited, despite hating leaving Pemberley so soon after returning from Town. As always, the joy of being exclusively with her husband was the primary delight. Additionally, there was the thrill of purchasing the material fundamentals for their son, each step of preparation authenticating his existence. A further perk was the pleasure of exploring the environs.

The Georgian Inn in Derby was a very old establishment, but premiere and swank. Lizzy was extremely impressed with the coaching inn, the massive building constructed of sturdy red bricks with a white colonnaded entryway the width of two carriages. Servants dressed in fine livery dashed to retrieve baggage from the Darcy carriage while others genuflected and escorted the Darcys to their reserved suite of chambers. Their rooms were generous and well appointed, flowers in vases scattered about, and had a breathtaking view of the River Derwent below with Darley Park beyond. Samuel and Marguerite immediately attended to the necessary tasks that would provide additional homey comforts for their Master and Mistress. Luncheon was taken in the common room, the food nearly as excellent as anything prepared by Mrs. Langton.

Lizzy was initially astonished at the number of people Darcy was acquainted with in Derby, the introduction of his wife made with pride as they strolled along the streets. Lizzy expressed her surprise, and Darcy smiled as he explained.

“Well, aside from growing up in the area, Derbyshire is not as vast as you might think, my love, especially if one is a Darcy. I do a great deal of business in Derby. I always stay at The George, which is why Mr. Harris knew me immediately. Of course, the room I usually stay in is a single room on the other side of the building.” He paused, glancing sidelong at his wife with a smirk, continuing dreamily, “I always wanted to stay in one of the large rooms with a view of the river, so it is fortunate I am now married, for that reason if for none other.”

Lizzy squeezed his arm and pinched him unobtrusively, harrumphing under her breath. Darcy chuckled and continued, “All our wool is brought here to the mill, as well as the grains and other harvests. Derby is the center for commerce in the region, and the way to London and beyond. You know I am part owner of a cotton mill here where baled cotton is processed. Also, I have a financial interest in the silk mill. Therefore, I travel here frequently for one reason or another, although I do usually return the same day. Actually, being married to you, beloved, has another advantage, as I can extend my stay beyond business to visit many of the sights I have not enjoyed for years.” He smiled down at Lizzy, who smiled in return.

“How pleased I am, dear husband, that marriage to me has afforded you so many joys. I feared your disappointment most acutely.” Darcy merely laughed.

The shop they entered, tiny bells tinkling at the door, was a store recommended by Harriet Vernor that specialized in infant and child accouterments, furnishings, and clothing. Meryton had a similar establishment—although substantially smaller—that Lizzy had frequented on occasion for friends, so she was not completely unfamiliar with the merchandise and atmosphere.

Darcy, however, had never in all his life stepped foot into such a place. The instant inundation with paraphernalia exclusively infantine was overwhelming. His heart constricted at the plethora of miniature garments and accessories. The air even smelled like a baby, or at least it seemed so to Darcy, although in truth he had only a vague seventeen-year-old memory of what a baby smelled like—except for foals, which had a freshness about them that was reminiscent to what he scented now. Tears sprang to his eyes and he cleared his throat gruffly, turning aside to finger the first item nearby: a spun-cotton-stuffed toy hound dog.

Lizzy had begun speaking to the proprietress, a Mrs. Higgins, explaining that she was expecting her first child and essentially needed everything.

“William?” she called to her husband. “Mrs. Higgins will assist us with our requirements. We are certainly not the first new parents to enter her shoppe!”

Darcy stepped forward as she spoke. He had taken control of his emotions, the Darcy mask of rigid calm and aloofness firmly in place. He bowed, and said haltingly with studied restraint, “Mrs. Higgins. We thank you for your time and patience. We will need everything, as Mrs. Darcy revealed. Cost is not an issue, and I insist on the best.”

“Mr. Darcy?” the store owner asked with awe. “I did not realize… well, naturally I will do all to help. Allow me a moment to call my assistant.” She bobbed and departed to a back room hastily.

Lizzy was frowning at him, crossing to where he stood with a concerned gaze. Laying a hand on his arm, she asked, “William, are you well? You seem so… uncomfortable. If you do not wish to be here, you need only say so. I will understand.” Her voice caught, but she tried to assure him with a weak smile.

Darcy's face fell, the mask instantly slipping as he grasped her hand. “No, beloved! There is nowhere else on earth I would rather be than here. I was merely… overcome for a moment. Please forgive me.” He kissed her forehead and she smiled brilliantly in relief.

He straightened stiffly when Mrs. Higgins returned, accompanied by a young woman introduced as Christina. For the next three hours, they closely examined every square inch of the store and many items pulled from the storage rooms. Darcy was not at all jesting when he said cost was not an issue, refusing several products that did not appear adequately constructed or were too plain. Gradually, Mrs. Higgins came to understand the truth of his assertions, and cognizant of the reputed Darcy wealth, she retrieved certain articles of extreme elegance and extravagance kept stashed away for just such special customers.

Therefore, they eventually exited having spent, to Lizzy's way of thinking, an obscene amount of money. Any attempts on her part to insert rationality or frugalness into the discussions garnered the infamous Darcy glare with brow creases deep and eyes flashing, so she relented. Along with the fundamentals, such as thick diapering cloths, pins, linens, towels, bathing essentials, and the like, they also purchased a few clothes and blankets. Most of their son's garments Lizzy wished to make herself, as well as the cradle blankets and cushions, fabrics to be obtained at the drapers.

Darcy was intently interested in each item, especially those things unique or revolutionary. Lizzy smiled at this, remembering with clarity all the remarkable gadgets he had acquired for her birthday. He was spellbound by the colorful mobile and purchased three of them, “for variety and to stimulate our son's intellect,” he said.

Equally amazing to him were the perambulators. He examined them thoroughly, pressing on them and driving them about the room. He frowned with a look of deep concentration, fingers flicking in a manner Lizzy was very familiar with. “It is like a miniature carriage,” he mused to himself. “If springs were placed here and here, it would have more bounce and ride smoother. The wheels could be sturdier to withstand the gravel paths around Pemberley. Hmmm…” He rubbed his chin. Lizzy watched him with admiration, Mrs. Higgins clearly confused.

Darcy continued, peering at his wife with a grin, “I think I, with Mr. Clark's assistance, could fashion improvements, Elizabeth, so the ride would be comfortable for him and you could walk far afield as you desire without safety concerns. Or better yet, the groom Stan! You remember him?” Lizzy nodded, smiling at the enthusiasm which led to him relaxing his formal pose. “He is a wizard with mechanical devices, always fixing the carriages and fountain pumps and anything else, usually ameliorating them in the process. Do you have one of these with natural tan leather for the canopy?” He asked suddenly of Mrs. Higgins, startling her.

“Y-Yes, Mr. Darcy, we do, although the black is in style now.”

He waved his hand, interrupting her. “That is inconsequential. Lighter colors block the sun.”

Next were the baby slings, new contraptions that carried a baby close to one's body while leaving the hands free. Both Lizzy and Darcy saw the advantage of this, although it was Lizzy who remembered the yards of Indian fabrics Dr. Darcy had gifted and instantly deduced how she could fashion her own slings. Darcy laughed at the mental vision of his wife and son draped with garish Indian silks.

Completing the infant wares were a tightly woven basket carrier, a tiny brush of silver and fine horsehair, two oil paintings of pastel-hued floral arrangements, and the stuffed hound. All were to be bundled and shipped to Pemberley.

Darcy and Lizzy strolled arm in arm, content at the day's accomplishments. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was shining brightly, but a gentle breeze eased the heat. The plan was to visit the drapers, but Lizzy felt drained after so many hours of shopping and the heat sapping her strength. “Dearest, can we postpone the fabric store until tomorrow? Suddenly a walk through the park sounds appealing.”

When they returned to the inn after a leisurely hour under the old oaks of Darley Park, an invitation was waiting for dinner that evening with Sir Allen Griffin of Alveston Hall. An odd expression crossed Darcy's face, but before Lizzy could inquire, it had disappeared and he sighed.

“I was hoping to avoid any social engagements; however, we should accept this, beloved, if you feel up to it. Sir Griffin was a friend to my father and his brother was married to my Aunt Muriel, who, I am sure you recall, died when I was six. They had no children and he remarried years ago, but there remains a vague familial relationship.”

In truth, Lizzy much preferred to stay alone with her husband, but such social requirements were expected, and she would not shirk her responsibilities. Therefore, by seven that evening, the Darcy carriage had halted before the massive front doors of Alveston Hall. The butler greeted them formally, leading them to the parlor. Neither knew exactly what to anticipate as far as the guest list was concerned, although they both prayed it was not an elaborate social affair. Nonetheless, they were both taken aback to note only Sir Griffin, his wife Lady Griffin, the eldest son, Mr. Lawrence Griffin, and his wife Annabella, another son, Maurice with his wife, Sarah Beth, and his daughters, Edith and Amy Griffin.

Lizzy realized that she had indeed met Sir Griffin, his wife, and the eldest son and wife at the Cole's Masque. Frankly, many of the names and faces from that night had blurred over time, and she could not recall being introduced to the second son or either daughter. Sir Griffin greeted them both with a ready smile and honest delight.

“Mr. Darcy, thank you for accepting our sudden invitation. Please forgive the abruptness, but you have a terrible habit, my boy, of quitting town ere anyone knows you are here! Mrs. Darcy, how are you finding our quaint community?”

“What I have viewed thus far is lovely, Sir Griffin. Mr. Darcy and I strolled the park today and along the river after a bit of shopping; however, most of the region I have yet to survey.”

“Darcy, you must take your wife to the Cathedral and Allestree Park. A trip to Derby is not complete unless you do.”

Darcy nodded. “I planned as much, Sir Griffin. We intend to tarry for three days at the least, affording enough time.”

The remainder of the introductions commenced. Lady Griffin was pleasant if quiet. The sons were around Darcy's age, agreeable, and talkative like their father. Edith was the eldest daughter, perhaps two or three years younger than Darcy, and recently engaged to a Lord Ryan of Oxfordshire. The Darcys congratulated her as was appropriate, Edith obviously a Caroline Bingley type who was quite proud of herself for her conquest.

Amy was a year or so older than Lizzy, vivacious and incredibly beautiful. She eyed Lizzy with intense interest, an undercurrent of distaste in her greeting that Lizzy could not fathom initially. Darcy's greeting was stilted even for him, and Lizzy, who knew him so well, instantly sensed his discomfiture. It was confusing, but the mass of voices and activity allotted her no time to puzzle it out.

Dinner advanced without unusual incidence, amusing in fact, Lizzy entertained especially by Sir Griffin and his sons. They were animated and humorous, even the usual business discussions entertaining. Lizzy had culled a fair knowledge of animal husbandry and agriculture via the numerous, in-depth conversations with Darcy, startling all three gentlemen at her contribution to their exchange. Darcy, as typical, was sedate. He added the occasional commentary but generally ate in silence and delighted in his wife's effervescence.

The women, with the exception of the cheery and somewhat flirty Amy, said practically nothing. Amy, to Lizzy's annoyance and Darcy's disquiet, continually attempted to draw him into conversation. She sat diagonal to him, frequently asking him questions he was obliged to answer and referring to past events they apparently had mutually attended. Eventually, a stern glower from her father ended the worst of her inappropriate attention, Lizzy relieved for both herself and her husband, but also curious.

When the groups parted as propriety deemed mandatory, Lizzy rolled her eyes toward her husband, who hid his laugh with a kiss to her fingers. “Have fun, love,” he whispered wryly with a slight smile and arch of one brow.

The women settled on sofas, sipping tea and entering into the standard women's chat of local gossip, fashion, gardening, and other idle topics.

“Mrs. Darcy, I understand congratulations are in order,” Lady Griffin said politely, “you and Mr. Darcy are expecting, I believe?”

Lizzy smiled, nodding as she agreed. “Yes, Lady Griffin, this is true and thank you. We are overjoyed.”

Annabella spoke dreamily, “I remember my first confinement. I have two children, Mrs. Darcy, the youngest only six months. It can be difficult at times, but the rewards are quite worth the sacrifice.”

“That is comforting. Thank you, Mrs. Griffin. I have been fortunate thus far so am hopeful it will continue.”

“Yes, you have been most fortunate, Mrs. Darcy,” Amy said with a faint sneer, “ensnaring the most eligible bachelor in Derbyshire, of cert. What was your secret? Do tell, so we can know how we failed.”

Lizzy was stunned and extremely uncomfortable, not sure if Miss Amy was jesting or alluding to something in particular.

Miss Griffin laughed and patted her sister's hand. “Still a sore loser, Amy? Forgive my sister, Mrs. Darcy. She, like many other young women, plotted to no avail. Mr. Darcy was a singularly tough nut to crack, until he found what he was searching for, obviously.” She smiled kindly and nodded toward Lizzy.

With a giddy, vapid laugh, Mrs. Griffin the younger chimed in, “Then he apparently proceeded with due haste! Quite the surprise, it was. One month he is courting our Amy and seemingly the next he is engaged to you!” She giggled, casting a pointed glance to Lizzy's midsection. “Apparently, he works quite fast in every way!”

Lizzy paled, suddenly feeling quite ill. With a triumphant smirk, Amy shrugged as if unconcerned. “Well, men too can be fickle. Who really knows what they are thinking, especially the quiet ones? Is that not true, Mrs. Darcy?”

Lizzy collected herself with effort, responding as firmly as possible with a sudden flare of jealousy. “I do not believe I can concur to such a generality, Miss Amy. Perhaps some men do not reveal themselves to those they are only mildly interested in.”

“This may be the case. However, a woman should be able to take a man at his word when he expresses interest and asks to call. After all, we poor females are completely at the mercy of a man's pleasure, so can only assume he is serious if he states his intent.”

“Enough, Amy,” Lady Griffin interjected with a laugh, as if the subject were highly amusing, “Let the past fade and look only to the future, I always say! I heard that the Prince Regent plans to hold a major fête next spring for his birthday. Now there is a discussion worth engaging in!”

For Lizzy, the remaining hour, despite the innocent banter, was torture. She managed to push her pain and jealousy aside for the most part, but was subdued, and when the men reentered the room, Darcy instantly knew something was amiss. Lizzy avoided his gaze, was pale, and her hands trembled. Falsely deducing she was fatigued and perhaps ill, he extended their thanks to Sir Griffin and escorted his wife to their carriage as quickly as decorum allowed.

The carriage had barely begun moving and he was facing his wife, clasping her cool hands in his warm ones. “Elizabeth? Are you ill? You should have called for me, beloved. Elizabeth?” Her face was averted, cast into the shadows of the inky carriage interior. She did not answer and his alarm escalated. Cupping her cheek, he attempted to pull her toward him, but she resisted and he felt wetness on his fingers. Truly terrified, he pulled harder. “Elizabeth! You are worrying me! Are you in pain?”

She was facing him now, lips trembling and tears shining in the pale moonlight. It was difficult to see her in the gloom, but he noted pain in her eyes, and her voice, when she spoke, was anguished. “When did you court Amy Griffin? Mere months before our marriage, so I was informed. While you were reportedly prostrate in your grief over me?”

Darcy staggered backward onto the seat, mouth open in shock. “What…?”

“She told me. Took great delight in telling me, in fact, of your intent and interest and seriousness. Why, William, would you take me to meet a woman you courted without at least warning me?”

Darcy pressed his lips together tightly and clenched his jaw, directing his gaze toward the far window. “I will not discuss this here, Elizabeth. It can wait until we are in our room.” His voice was flat and low, brooking no argument.

Once alit from the carriage, a rigid Darcy escorted Lizzy to their room, dropping her arm and crossing immediately to pour himself a brandy. He stood with his back to her, drinking, while Lizzy suffered waves of intense nausea.

Knees weak, she sat down feeling seriously ill, willing him to speak. When he finally did, his tone was icy and he kept his back to her.

“Elizabeth, I never claimed that I did not consider other women before I met you. From the time I was eighteen, I had every acceptable lady shoved into my face with friends and family incessantly harping on me to make a match, not to mention Lady Catherine badgering me about Anne every time I turned around. I was eight and twenty when I fell in love with you. Ten long years of potentials with their pedigrees and necessary standards listed ad nauseam, the qualifications drummed into me. Believe me, my family was frantic at my persistent single status, anxious about the Darcy line, and beginning to seriously fret that I was becoming too particular and set in my ways. Ten years of pressure. In those latter years, I began to agree with their assessment. I was tired of being lonely, tired of searching, tired of the parade of unsavory options, tired of relieving my sexual desires myself, tired of wanting.”

He finished the brandy with a large swallow, setting the glass down with a loud crash, and then turned around. His eyes were black with anger and old pain. “The stupidest thing I ever did in all my life was leave Hertfordshire. Maybe, just maybe, if I had stayed I could have proven my love for you and learned to accept it myself. Instead, I idiotically tried to forget you. Amy Griffin was at the Masque that winter. She flirted; we danced twice, and talked a bit. Do you know what my first thought was when she spoke?” Lizzy shook her head slightly, staring into his eyes. “That she reminded me of Elizabeth Bennet.” He smiled wryly. “She was witty, vivacious, pretty, proper, and acceptable. I wondered if she could fill the void in my heart that I keenly felt was only touched when I was with you. We encountered each other that winter at a few social engagements, and I called on her twice after Twelfth Night: all proper, in her home, with family present. I do not even know why I bothered the second time, except I had to be sure. Not sure that she was not the one for me, but sure that you were. Miss Amy is the only woman I had ever met who was nearest to what I had sought, yet she was not the one. That place was already taken by you, Elizabeth. After that second visit, I was convinced and decided to somehow find you again and win your hand.”

He sighed, hanging his head wearily and running a palm down his face. “Only now I see she is nothing like you. You do not have a cruel or vindictive bone in your body, Elizabeth.” He swore, meeting her eyes with guilt. “I have failed you again, my love. As with Lady Catherine, I trusted and had no foresight that Miss Amy deemed my meager interest serious, nor that she would seek to hurt you in spite.”

“No! William, stop,” she replied, as she jumped up and rushed to him, placing her hands on his chest. “You do not need to apologize for her! I am the stupid one. I was ragingly jealous that anyone may have garnered your affection, however minutely, and I took it out on you. In my juvenile suspicion, I forgot your age and searching and loneliness. Naturally you would have courted others! I am a fool. Please forgive me?”

He shook his head curtly, declaring resolutely, “I never courted anyone, my Lizzy. Not even you actually. I was very inept at the game. A call for tea upon occasion, a dance at the appropriate places, dinner, and such, but never anything official. Nonetheless, there was a handful that I seriously considered. They never materialized, obviously, but I was looking very hard. This is all further proof of my incompetence in that I brainlessly walked away from you. I am flattered at your jealousy, but it is unwarranted.” He clasped her face passionately. “How many times must I tell you that you are the only woman I have ever wanted? Anyone I remotely considered pales in comparison to you.”

Lizzy responded by throwing her arms about his neck and claiming his lips in a possessive, aggressive kiss. When she released him, withdrawing scantly, he was panting and parted lips were swollen. “You must tell me and show me often, Fitzwilliam Darcy, because I will not share you. You are mine, exclusively mine, for all eternity and I will not let you forget it nor have cause to want another!”

“Elizabeth, I will never…” but she stopped his words with another equally covetous kiss, attacking his coat with rapid enthusiasm, tossing it violently away and then assaulting the cravat. Darcy was momentarily confounded by her onslaught but quickly reciprocated with his own raging need to prove his faithfulness and ownership. At the precise instant that she reached the lowest button of his waistcoat, yanking in frustration at the time consuming process and sending the button flying, he grasped her dress where the endless row of tiny buttons began and ripped. The dress gave way, hastily falling to the floor alongside his vest, the tinkling of a dozen pearl buttons hitting the wooden floor unnoticed by either.

Darcy clutched her harshly, her feet lifted off the ground as he crushed her to his chest, Lizzy kneading his shoulders with steely hands. The kiss continued unrelentingly, both probing and claiming custody rights. Slithering as an eel, Lizzy escaped his grip, loosening his shirt tail from his waistband, and crouching to plant moist kisses to his belly.

“Only mine,” she murmured against his exposed abdomen.

Lizzy traveled voraciously up his torso as the shirt was peeled away, eventually tossed haphazardly as she interspersed hungry kisses with numerous firmly declared only mine statements. She was everywhere on him, kissing and touching. Not an inch of his flesh escaped her conquest; her demand to once again affirm her title to him ruled.

Darcy was dizzy, swaying on his feet with passionate flame. Neither fully realized they were stepping incrementally toward the bed until the edge was felt behind his knees. With a combined shove and pull, they fell onto the mattress, Lizzy on top of his body. Their eyes met for a second, insane lust and absorbing protectiveness visible.

Lizzy reached to free him, holding his gaze. Untying her chemise to expose her breasts for firm caresses, Darcy watched her, panting stridently as she shifted. She paused, the moment stretching as eyes locked. “All for me, Fitzwilliam, and I only for you.” He nodded, unable to speak, and they merged, Darcy hungrily pulling her in for a savage kiss.

Forever, it seemed, they danced. Always needing more, wanting the sensations to cascade higher and endure eternally. There is a limit; however, they consistently managed to transcend the previously attained boundaries over and over again. Lizzy dug her nails into his shoulder, whimpers passing ruddy, occupied lips as they crashed and flew joyously over the pinnacle of bliss.

They both collapsed, lying entwined and dazed for long minutes. Lizzy caressed over his fair skin, a feeling of intense relief rendering her again breathless. Despite it all, the reality of how close they came to losing each other yet reared up and terrified them. Tears sprang to her eyes and she squeezed him tight, Darcy lifting to brush her tears away.

“Hush, beloved,” he whispered tenderly, bottomless amounts of love conveyed in his husky voice. “We were meant to be, fated by God, I believe. Nothing would have kept us apart, and nothing ever will.” He kissed her softly, brushing warm lips over hers, no longer possessively but with belonging and unity.

The Darcy's sojourn in Derby lasted five days total. It had, in fact, been seven years since Darcy tarried in Derby for more than a day or two, many of the local curiosities and attractions unseen. For Lizzy, having only passed through the Midland area on her way to and from Pemberley, it was an adventure and a delight.

They rose early on their second day in town, breakfasting light in the common room, and then set out to tour the township itself. They walked first to the Derby Cathedral, an ancient church built in the tenth century originally, although much of the early stones of those far gone days no longer remain. The truly impressive part of the church, and where it attained its fame, was in the two-hundred-foot, Gothic tower built in the sixteenth century during the reign of Henry VIII. The church proper and attached building for clerics and attendants had undergone numerous renovations over the centuries, the final product a mélange of varied styles. However, one glance at the tower and all else faded. It was stupendous.

Lizzy and Darcy arrived early, only a few other folks about. The grounds were beautiful with blooming flowers and tall shady trees. Like all churches everywhere, a serene hush existed in the arched interior. Long rows of wooden benches with a handful of supplicants in meditation and prayer graced the inner sanctum of curved white and gold columns. An elaborate and truly breathtaking, lacy, wrought-iron screen separated the nave from the chancel, two clerics actively offering prayers as Lizzy and Darcy entered. They wandered quietly, admiring the beauty visible in every inch of the environs. Darcy sat for a spell, gazing up at the altar, visage peaceful as he said silent prayers.

The nearly two hundred steps ascending to the topmost landing of the tower were steep and narrow, but the view from above was exhilarating. A faint breeze blew over the treetops, brushing soothingly over their perspiring brows, the air fresh as they inhaled deeply to recover from the strenuous climb. One could see all of Derby stretched below, as well as much of the valley extending beyond. They stood together, winded but admiring the view in quiet solitude, no one else energetic enough to tackle the stairs as yet. The rivers Derwent and Wye could easily be seen as they wound through the valley until they merged, wending to the horizon where they disappeared into a blue glint.

“I have never in my life been in a building so tall,” Lizzy said in awe. “Amazing that man can build such a structure and have it last these three hundred years.” She leaned against his arm, breathing heavily.

“Are you alright, my love?”

“Yes, although I do not think I should venture the climb when nine months pregnant!” Darcy chuckled, hugging her close. Once she felt adequately rested they descended, the downward climb far easier.

Leaving the cathedral, they meandered leisurely through the streets. Darcy pointed to the occasional oddity or old building, impressing Lizzy with his knowledge of the area. She expressed her pride, but he laughed. “Thank you, dearest, for your faith in my ready recollection and intellect, but I assure you that for each fact imparted, I have likely passed by a dozen others unremembered or unknown. I truthfully have spent little time learning the region this far south. Now, when we tour the highlands and Peaks, I will dazzle you with my brilliance!”

Despite his words, Lizzy had a fair familiarity with the town by the time they rested for luncheon. The highlights as far as she was concerned were the Cathedral, naturally, as well as Exeter House where Bonnie Prince Charlie plotted his failed reclamation of the throne in 1745, and the silk mill, one of a dozen mills utilizing the power of the River Derwent, but the oldest such mill in all of England and the one Darcy was financially invested in.

He took her to the cotton mill that he owned as part of a three-way partnership. She met Mr. Shultz, one of the partners, and received a full tour. Once again, she was astounded by the breadth of her husband's expertise. Peripheral awareness that he owned a mill had not translated to comprehensive appreciation of his proficiency on the subject. Mr. Shultz interjected upon occasion, but primarily Darcy explained in detail the function of each machine throughout the massive four-story building. Lizzy found it all immensely fascinating, having previously devoted minimal time to learning about machinery and technology. Marriage to a man like Darcy prevented ignorance, although she would never boast the intense comprehension he possessed. It was an enlightening morning, deepening their communion as they shared another facet of the complex Master of Pemberley.

They ate lunch at the Dolphin, the oldest pub in town dating from the mid-1500s. The food was not fancy, but the atmosphere of the tiny, intimate pub was fun. Lizzy felt as if she had stepped back in time with the dark wood bar and paneling, the stone fireplace massive, and windows of crackled glass. Darcy explained that, after dark, the pub would not be an appropriate place to take a lady, but the rowdy customers who retreated to such places for a pint or two were currently still working.

After dining, Darcy escorted Lizzy to the drapers. After much persuasion, Lizzy had finally convinced Darcy that, not only would he be bored out of his skull in such an establishment, but also his lurking presence would irritate her and likely prevent full concentration on necessary purchases for the baby. Therefore, he had agreed to pursue “manly” occupations while she shopped. In truth, he was relieved and rather excited about his planned amusement. Derby boasted the premiere fencing academy in Derbyshire, an establishment Darcy did attempt to visit whenever in the area. The combination of strenuous exercise in a pastime he so enjoyed while honing his skills with some of the best swordsmen in the region was too magnetic a draw to resist.

Of course, Lizzy did have to tease when he revealed his plan for the afternoon. “Oh yes, William, by all means strengthen your swordsmanship skills. One never knows when one will need to call upon such proficiency!” He did have the good grace to blush slightly.

So, with Phillips sent to play bodyguard on the dangerous streets of the Derby merchant shops, as Lizzy jokingly stated, an appeased Darcy embarked on his afternoon activity. Lizzy had a wonderful time. One of the shop clerks had recently delivered her third baby and the two women bonded instantly over the joys of maternity. The clerk's expertise was extremely beneficial. Lizzy purchased enough fabrics, ribbons, lace, quilt battings, patterns, yarns, needles, and notions to not only keep her fingers occupied for the remaining months of her pregnancy but also to outfit baby Darcy for the first several months. Feeling very satisfied with the afternoon's accomplishments, Lizzy and Phillips returned to the inn. It was far too early for Darcy to have completed his drills, so Lizzy grabbed a book and walked to one of the benches by the riverbank.

“Mrs. Darcy?” Lizzy glanced up as one of the inn's maids approached. “Pardon me, madam, but this missive just arrived for you.”

“Thank you.” Lizzy opened the note with a smile, having recognized the seal. The only people in the immediate vicinity that Lizzy and Darcy wished to visit were the Drurys. Their estate, Locknell Hall, was only a few miles outside of Derby. Lizzy had not been to their home as of yet, the Drurys instead traveling to Pemberley or seen while in London. Lizzy had written to Chloe when they arrived yesterday, hoping that they would be able to visit. Chloe's reply was enthusiastic, her friendship with Lizzy a deeply felt one. Darcy and Clifton were not as close, but they had enough in common to spend a pleasant evening together, in truth extending the courtesy for the sake of their wives.

Lizzy smiled. It had not been but three weeks since visiting with Chloe, but she missed her. Suddenly, Lizzy experienced the yearning to gather all her women friends together for a lengthy afternoon of tea and gossip, deciding on the spot that as soon as she was back at Pemberley she would arrange it. Hastening to the inn, Lizzy scribbled a quick note to Chloe, confirming that she and Darcy would dine with them for dinner tomorrow. Normally, Lizzy would not be so presumptuous, such invitations necessarily being discussed with her husband, but she was too excited.

It was nearly six o’clock before Darcy finally materialized. Lizzy was passing the time catching up on correspondences to Charlotte Collins, whose baby was due shortly before her own, and her sister Lydia, who rarely responded but Lizzy continued to write as often as possible. Darcy entered briskly, energized from his training and smiling broadly as he bellowed his wife's name.

“Elizabeth! Look what I found!” His arms were laden with a mass of packages, bags dangling on both sides and bumping his knees. He looked utterly ridiculous, barely managing the knob and peeking through a small gap between two boxes. Lizzy started at his abrupt entrance, momentarily paralyzed at the small desk where she sat. Darcy swung around, searching for her through his narrow peephole, finally spying her as she rose to assist him. “Ah, there you are! Dressed too, that is good. Mr. Howe! Enter.” He pivoted toward the open door, the tower of parcels swaying dangerously as Lizzy jumped to the rescue.

“William! What in the world…?”

“Elizabeth, you will not believe my luck… Oh thank you, Mr. Howe. Place it there.” Entering cautiously was one of the inn's manservants carrying an enormous rocking horse. Lizzy retrieved three of the boxes as they tumbled from Darcy's arms, nearly dropping them herself in her astonished amazement at the horse. Darcy bent and deposited the mass of bags and packages onto the sofa, straightening with a stretch. “What a relief,” he declared, “some of those are heavy.” He turned to his wife with a grin, planting a hearty kiss as the door closed behind Mr. Howe.

“Are you going to explain all this or must I remain in suspense?”

“Yes! So, I am departing the Academy, walking down the street as I have a dozen times in the past, when I glance over, not two doors down, and there is a toy store! Can you believe I never noticed it before? This,” he patted the horses head, sending it gliding, “was in the window, calling to me as it were.”

“I see. You entered and left some time later, having bought all the merchandise the store had to offer?” She swept her arm toward the pile on the sofa with a laugh.

“Do not be ridiculous, Elizabeth. I can show some restraint when necessary.” He was beaming, Lizzy laughing harder.

“Oh really? We have a rocking horse, as you are well aware, William, as it was yours.”

“Yes, but it is quite old and used roughly. I yet need to refinish and repair it. Besides, this is the newer model set on gliders rather than large bowed rockers, and now we can station one upstairs in the playroom and the other downstairs.”

“Well, since you have apparently given this a tremendous amount of forethought, I shall not argue the matter. He really is beautiful,” she said as she gave the horse a push, stroking the polished wood, “although I am surprised he is dappled grey rather than coal black.”

She smiled at her husband, who answered absently, “They did not carry a black one.” Lizzy laughed anew. The hobbyhorse was pearly grey with a long flowing white mane and tail of genuine horsehair. The saddle was pliable leather, thick, cushioned, and tanned a rich brown. A leather detailed wool blanket lay underneath, stirrups of sturdy steel attached with durable leather straps. The horse itself sat on a raised wooden base, also polished to a gleam, metal hinges and bars through the legs providing the gentle rocking motion upon the simple sway of a child's body. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship and detail, easily imaginable as enduring for generations to come.

Darcy cleared a place on the sofa. “Here, Elizabeth, have a seat.” He dragged a chair over, sitting on the edge and reaching for the largest box. Ripping apart the strings, he explained, “The shop was amazing. Every kind of toy you could imagine, my love. Many familiar from my own youth. In fact, I am sure there are boxes in storage I have yet to uncover containing old toys of mine and Georgie's. However, there were many that were unusual to me. Of course, you will recognize these.” Inside was a collection of building blocks, at least fifty, of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

Lizzy laughed. “I always wanted blocks, but it was not considered a girl's toy. These are wonderful, William.” With sudden stunned amazement she stared at her husband. “You carried these all the way from Oak Street?”

Darcy flushed slightly. “Well, no. They piled the parcels into a wheelbarrow and a clerk followed me with them. I only carried them from downstairs. I did carry the horse all the way, if that impresses you sufficiently.” He grinned and flexed his right arm, Lizzy laughing and leaning in for a kiss.

One by one, the packages and bags were opened, disclosing a vast array of child's playthings: three spinning tops, colorful and of varied sizes; a Chinese yo-yo; a spectacular army of minutely detailed tin soldiers, American Colonials and His Majesty's Regimentals; a Jack-in-the-Box; a replica of Admiral Nelson's flagship HMS Victory inside a glass bottle; four stuffed animals consisting of another dog, an elephant, a bull, and a lamb; and four dolls.

“Dolls?” Lizzy asked with arched brows.

“I know you are certain the baby is a male, but just in case you are wrong, or for our daughter, whenever she is created.” He smiled and caressed Lizzy's face.

Lizzy turned and kissed his palm, chuckling as she said, “Very sweet, my love, but since I am the one blessed with all the aches associated, let us take this process one baby at a time.” Three of the dolls were fairly standard, with porcelain heads and beautifully painted faces, garbed in frilly dresses over softly stuffed bodies. The last was simply the strangest doll Lizzy had ever seen. “Is it a little Indian doll?” she asked.

Darcy explained, with the enthusiasm he customarily showed whenever confronted with something strange or unique, “Exactly! It is designed after the dolls the natives of the Americas play with. It makes sense, does it not? All girls play with dolls based on what they are familiar with. You have seen the drawings. They wear their hair long and braided, with beaded leather dresses and shoes. Is she not lovely?” In fact, she was exactly as he described and as Lizzy had seen in the papers. Browned cloth skin and black bead eyes, black yarn braided on each side of the head, the dress and moccasins sewn with tiny multihued beads, all constructed over a cushiony body.

A smaller bag contained two carefully wrapped baby rattles. One was of silver with many tiny silver bells attached to the outside and a knob of coral on the end for sucking on. The second was a gourd painted with a tropical scene of palm trees, foam cresting waves on the seashore, and brilliant blue sky, attached to a handle of burnished ivory.

The remaining packages contained a half a dozen odd puzzles. Puzzles of entangled wires looped about into shapes, others of wood carved into knots, one with string and metal balls threaded into an intricate shape, and the last two were wooden Burr interlocking puzzles shaped as a pyramid and a horse. All were brainteasers, the idea to figure out the mystery of how they were formed. “I had many of these when a boy,” Darcy proclaimed. “By far my favorite pastime. I love trying to figure out how they are constructed. I know for a fact I have several of these yet hidden in a storage box, but these are different.”

Lizzy was overwhelmed, Darcy grinning like a cat after swallowing a canary. He grasped her hands and pulled her onto his lap, cuddling her into his arms. “William, you are too wonderful. You do too much…”

He halted her with a kiss. “Hush, Elizabeth. I can never do enough to express my love and appreciation for what you have given me, my beloved wife.” He flattened a hand over the swell of their child, smoothing her gown taut to better visualize the bulge. “This,” he smiled, caressing tenderly, “and you are the greatest gifts I have ever received in all my life. I will take care of you as I deem appropriate.”

Lizzy frowned nonetheless, “I understand this, dearest, but are you sure of the expense? You have been so extravagant.”

He nodded, kissing her forehead. “Elizabeth, you have seen my ledgers and know the financial burden is not a hardship. Besides, I have been saving and planning for my family for years. There is no concern. Now, let me hold you and feel our son for a spell before I freshen up for dinner.”

Dinner was delicious. Afterward, the Darcys tarried in the common room to listen to a traveling minstrel sing and play a lute. He was excellent, and the room filled to capacity with cheering listeners. It was entertainment of a sort Lizzy had never partaken of; she and Darcy sat snuggly together at a corner table sipping wine as the troubadour displayed his talent with an eclectic mix of mournful ballads, folk hymns, and lively dance tunes.

Upon later reentering their temporary bedchamber, Lizzy spied her husband in his robe sitting on a chair and examining one of the string and metal puzzles with deep intensity. She observed him unawares for a few moments, desire allayed with wondering if he would solve the mystery. He was leaning with elbows on knees, brows knitted with those precious creases visible, fingers traveling purposefully over the pieces. He turned, wiggled, and pressed in concentration. Suddenly grasping two of the steel rings with an expression of abrupt perception, his hands blurred as he twisted a piece. The pieces separated and Darcy released a satisfied shout.

Lizzy smiled, applauding in pride. “Bravo! My brilliant spouse.”

Darcy glanced up with a smile of smugness, rapidly replaced with stunned awe and raging ardor as the pieces fell from slack hands. “My god, Elizabeth! You are… ravishing! Where did you buy that gown?”

Raising her arms, Lizzy performed a swaying dance as she twirled about. “Oh, this old thing? Do you like it, my lover?”

The gown in question was black satin and clinging to every curve. The bodice gathered under barely concealed breasts and split open between to reveal her cleavage; string thin straps crossing over creamy shoulders and down her back. The back of the gown was essentially nonexistent, the fabric covering her bottom just barely. The long skirt was slit in four places all the way to mid-thigh, flashes of leg tantalizing as she danced.

Darcy was instantly aroused, the vision of his wife in swaying satin nearly more than he could tolerate. It was not only the visual stimulation but also the joy in these constant gifts she sprung on him, all for the express purpose of pleasing him. Of course, she most assuredly reaped the benefit of his intense delight. With a sultry smile he rose, slowly traversing the space separating them, Lizzy watching with bright eyes.

Reaching tender fingertips to caress over her cheeks, jaw, neck, and then to her shoulders, he slipped a finger under each slim strap. He huskily spoke, holding her gaze, “The gown is stunning. However, the true magnificence is found sheathed inside the satin.” He traced over her collarbone, trailing fire downward to brush fleetingly over each hard nipple. “It is always you, best loved wife, who completes any outfit, rendering it supreme and me your slave.”

Continuing the fiery assault over her flesh, Darcy augmented the torrential sparks flowing through her by applying lips to the tender skin behind her ear. Lizzy shivered, moaning faintly as he maintained a steady, leisurely devotion to every inch of her. Murmuring love and adulation as he kissed her, his hands traveled from her hair to upper thighs as he moved over and around her body. Standing behind her now, pulling the lush mass of hair aside, he administered the same dedication to her back. Kissing and licking the nape of her neck, down the entirety of her spine to sumptuous buttocks, his hands stroked her lovingly.

Lizzy arched backward, sighing with pleasure. “I love you, Mrs. Darcy, immeasurably,” he whispered into her ear, nibbling the lobe. “So beautiful, desirable, and sensual. Mmmmm… you smell delicious enough to feast on and I believe I shall do just that.” He cupped her breasts, pulling her against his chest, sucking delectably over her neck and shoulders. “Thank you, my beloved luscious lover, for striving to thrill me further. Although you need nothing to heighten your beauty and power over me, I do appreciate your enthusiasm and effort.” He pressed into her body, groaning hoarsely. “Love, my precious love. You provoke me to astounding reaches of desire. Never have I imagined such raging passion as with you, my Lizzy. I so love you!”

“Fitzwilliam, take me to bed.”

Darcy smiled, lips tickling her shoulder blades. “I have a better plan.” He kissed her neck, grasping shoulders and turning her about. “Go stand by the window, sweet wife, whilst I douse the lights.”

She did as he asked, waiting and watching as he glided about the chamber extinguishing each lamp. He approached with sinewy grace, eyes indigo, and desire proudly evident. Darcy untied his robe, exposing his multitude of masculine attributes to his wife's thirsty stare. “So powerful and virile you are, my heart. All of you alluring and sublimely male.”

Darcy smiled. “It is you, Elizabeth. You move me and arouse my potency as never previously attained. I confess I am still frequently shocked at how I respond to your love. I never reacted so grandly until I began loving you.” He cupped both hands around her slender neck, his thumbs caressing over her jaw and his fingers laced into her hair. Leaning in, he licked lightly over her full lips before claiming her entire mouth, inner and outer, in an all-encompassing kiss.

Lizzy encircled his waist, hugging tight and arching into his body with a sibilant moan. For long moments they embraced, kissing and caressing with ever increasing passion. Darcy finally broke away with a raspy growl, panting heavily. “Turn around. Let me show you how desperately I yearn for you.”

Obeying with a nod, Lizzy faced the window. Moonlight shone faintly on the rippling surface of the river, millions of stars twinkling, the pale light bathing Lizzy's skin with a bluish glow. Darcy fondled warm hands over the curves of her hips, down firm thighs and around to the sensitive inner flesh, satin sliding sensuously. Gliding hands over the precious prominence created by their child, upward to cherish each breast, again drawing her securely onto his body.

“I shall love you here in the moonlight with your succulent body merged with mine. Moving, always moving as our passion rises to heavenly heights. I shall possess you with my body as you possess my soul. You, Elizabeth Darcy, my wife and eternal love.” As he finished speaking, voice low and vibrant, he ran one hand up her spine while bending her body slightly and initiated the delicious process of wholly loving his wife.

Slowly, leisurely they loved, caressing as passion rose. They were lost to increasing sensations, sighing and moaning in need. Darcy kept his eyes open, marveling at her beauty in the reflective light and her roaring response to him, overjoyed at her blatant pleasure, and always with love spiraling unimaginably as his own ardor escalated until he felt the intense bliss gathering to a point of uncontrollability.

Passion cresting until neither wished to hold back, tumbling over as souls melded in the process. Immediately, Darcy pulled her upward and onto his burning chest, enveloping her with trembling arms and delivering moist kisses along her glistening neck as he panted with gradually declining rapture.

“Elizabeth, my beautiful love, my soul, my delight and life. How amazing you love me! My joy is fulfilled with you, so perfect you are.” Lizzy tarried in a place of heavenly stupefaction, allowing his words of veneration to wash over her consciousness as his hands tenderly caressed her arms.

“Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, “I love you.” Darcy smiled with supreme happiness, brushing her lips and then sweeping her into his arms, carrying her to the bed.

They nestled close, face to face with hands entwined and fingers lightly caressing. Darcy played with her lush curls, a favorite pastime, while Lizzy feathered through the downy hairs on his chest. All the while eyes mere inches apart were locked in a loving gaze, one or the other frequently leaning for a kiss. Oddly, considering their busy day and recent strenuous activity, neither felt overly tired.

Darcy brushed over the satin of her gown. “You never told me where you bought this scandalous gown.”

Lizzy giggled. “Scandalous? Madame du Loire is French and you know the reputation they have! Apparently, it is well founded as she creates an entire line of such decadent garments for clients so inclined. I must have an invisible sign stamped on me for those able to discern that shouts, ‘Her husband is insatiable and she is licentious.’ The third time I visited her shop for a fitting, she brought out the short chemise from Christmas Eve that you so love.” Darcy smiled salaciously in remembrance. Lizzy continued with a laugh, “Yes, I think I must have had a similar expression on my face, beloved, for when she asked me how I ‘enjoyed’ the chemise, suddenly a dozen scanty bedroom garments appeared, each more scandalous than the last. So now I have a collection and don a new one every so often for the humorous cast of your face when you see me, not to mention the sexual delights as a result.” She kissed his chuckling lips.

“I shall have to extend my appreciation to Madame du Loire,” he said, stroking enticingly down her waist and hip.

“You shall do no such thing, William! I would die of embarrassment. I still blush scarlet when she shows me her latest creation.”

“Yet, you purchase it,” Darcy interjected with a grin.

“Well, of course! Mortified speechless I may be, but not stupid. I am abundantly thankful she knows my size and I need not have them fit. Again, it is all your fault, but the sensations rushing through my body when I wear one of these filmy lingerie, as the French call them, are most inappropriate for a public house!”

“I wonder if Marguerite knows of such French delicacies. I do hope so, for my valet's sake.” Darcy ran the back of two fingers along the swell of her breast under the bodice.

Lizzy laughed. “Well, if she did not before, she does now, as she helps me dress and launders my undergarments. I deem Samuel will be quite satisfied, especially if his shy nature harbors great passion as it does with you, my heart.”

Darcy blushed faintly, hiding his humility within her bosoms for a spell of nuzzling and kissing. Lizzy released a sigh of pleasure, kissing the top of his head. His muffled voice rose from where his lips were planted firmly on one nipple, “How many of these lingerie did you bring on this trip, my wife? Perhaps we should forego our plans for the morrow and stay inside.” He rose with a hopeful, questioning look to his wife, but Lizzy giggled and shook her head.

“Forgive me, lover, for disappointing, but I only brought this one.” She laced her fingers through his hair, smiling happily and tickling her lips over his. “However,” she whispered breathily, “I do not judge the positive effects of this particular gown have yet been utterly exhausted.” With a last nip to his full lower lip, she twisted from his grasp and stood on the bed.

Darcy smiled lasciviously, eyes brazenly grazing every inch of her head to toe. Lizzy flushed, boldly inventorying his physique as he was hers. Then she laughed, tossing her hair with a flip of her head and sweep of her hands. Arms raised over her head, she stretched, breasts jutting perkily and the bulge of the baby clearly defined by the clinging satin. Darcy continued to grin, groin already responding to all the marvelous attributes of his bride.

“You see,” Lizzy spoke softly, fingers skimming airily down her neck toward her chest, “this is fine satin. A silk woven fabric that clings yet also glides and flows. Black as the night to contrast with ivory skin”—she brushed along her cleavage—“thin to display a hint of what hides underneath”—she lightly circled each visible nipple with one finger and Darcy licked his suddenly dry lips—“yet covering much of the skin to spark the imagination and tantalize.”

She stroked over her hips and thighs, continuing huskily while Darcy's excitement manifested before her eyes. She undulated her hips, the long tails of the gown fluttering about her legs. “Note how it moves? So soft, cool to the touch, erotic in how it caresses the skin. Very, very, very stimulating,” she whispered, eyes open a mere slit as she observed her husband's avid passion.

Darcy groaned audibly. “Elizabeth,” he murmured.

Lizzy smiled naughtily. “I watch you, my handsome husband, in all your masculine glory. The memory of how you incite me coupled with the sensation of smooth satin encasing and caressing my body, and I am immeasurably aroused. I imagine you touching me, kissing me, loving me, and I lose all sense of anything but you.” Lizzy was truly growing highly excited, but no more so than Darcy, who was unable to speak in his hunger for her.

With a thirsty glance, she wheezed, “Does this spur your ardor, my lover? Do you want to take me now, hard and fast?”

Darcy snapped, sitting up and grasping her legs as Lizzy fell onto the bed. Within seconds he was over her, skirt rapidly moved aside, and he claimed her with a hoarse growl. It was over in seconds, yet still rapturous and intense. It was rushed, manic, dynamic, glorious, and wholly fulfilling.

Collapsing in consummate bliss, Darcy rolled to the side with her encased in his arms. “Elizabeth Darcy, you take my breath away, literally.” He inhaled deep and shuddering, laughing shakily. “No sooner do I think I have reached the boundary of how far I can be aroused by you then you push me beyond. How will I survive this continual physical exertion?” He kissed her head and she laughed tremulously.

“Your heart is strong, beloved. I trust you will survive brilliantly. Of course, if you deem it too much for you, I can desist.” She kissed his chest, lifting to gaze at his smiling, joyous face. He twisted a tress of her hair around his fingers, profound love emanating from every pore and beaming through his eyes.

“No, my Lizzy, do not desist. I shall take my chances.” He clasped her face, drawing her to his mouth. “I love you, Elizabeth, forever.”

“I love you, William, beyond forever.” They kissed languidly, tenderly, faithfully. Endlessly kissing and embracing, gentle caresses of devotion continued until sleep overtook them.