Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One

Chapter Three The Wedding Night

Lizzy took one last look in the mirror and then entered the bedchamber with a happy smile and wildly beating heart. The room was lit only by the fire, two oil lamps, the filtered moonlight, and a wall sconce on either side of the bed. For a moment she thought the room empty but then she noticed her husband standing by a window with his back to her. She caught her breath at the sight before her. He was standing as she had so often seen him stand, with spine perfectly straight, feet firmly planted, and one arm bent with his hand resting on his waist. He was wearing a long maroon robe with a black sash, and every detail of his physique was evident through its folds. She found the view enchanting, and her heart began to race crazily.

“William,” she whispered.

He turned quickly at her voice and it was his turn to catch his breath. His carefully regulated control slipped instantaneously and his groin responded alarmingly. Several deep breaths were necessary to maintain his equilibrium. For a long moment they stood paralyzed, drinking in each other with their eyes. Darcy was the first to break the spell as he moved to meet her in the middle of the room. He longed to grab her and enfold her in his arms, yet at the same time, he wished to study her beauty, memorizing every line and curve of the vision before him.

He stopped a short distance from her and took her outstretched hands, halting her forward movement. She looked at him quizzically. “Elizabeth,” he said huskily, “may I simply adore you for a moment?”

She smiled and matched his boldness. “Only, sir, if I may do the same!”

Elizabeth had picked a nightgown of sheer satin, pale yellow with tiny bows down the bodice, narrow strap sleeves, a deeply scooped neckline, and pleated gathers just under her bosom. Her hair was loose down her back and shoulders in a chestnut veil of soft curls. Darcy had seen her hair down on a couple of occasions, but never in such an intimate setting, and the sight rendered him breathless and weak in the knees.

Her face was flushed, eyes bright and merry and completely full of love. The gown itself was thin but not totally transparent, offering tantalizing glimpses of her flawless form underneath. The satin flowed over her hips in gentle folds and over barely visible legs until just touching the tops of delicate feet, leaving tiny toes exposed. The entire vision was delectable and so moving to Darcy’s soul. Everything about her was perfection and beauty. He knew his aroused state was obvious to her searching eyes, but under the circumstances, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Elizabeth, not completely unaware of the effect she was having on her husband, was nonetheless experiencing her own breathlessness as she carefully examined the presence before her hungry eyes. On only three occasions had she seen William in anything other than his full attire: while staying with Jane at Netherfield when she had spied him from her window after his ride, soaking wet from sweat and the water pump; once while he was riding; and many months later when he strode through the early morning mist on the day he proposed for the second time.

On all occasions her mind had been clouded with sleep or lack of it, daydreams, and overwrought emotions. The image of him as she had seen him on those three occasions had burned into her memory to return in her dreams, but it always seemed vague and hazy. This, however, was real. This time she was fully in charge of her senses and faculties, and she fully intended to take note of every detail possible.

He looked so young with his face relaxed; all the tension and careful regulation that usually strained his noble features were gone. His eyes blazed a vivid indigo in the half light of the room, shining and intense with bridled passion and deep love. His robe enclosed his broad shoulders and strong arms completely, yet somehow accented the shape underneath to great advantage. His neck was bare and she could see his pulse beating rapidly in the hollow of his throat. The robe was pulled tight across his muscular chest and belted securely at his lower abdomen. She could only see a triangle of his chest to roughly mid-sternum, dark hairs visible, and her fingers literally itched to touch his skin. His robe covered the rest of his body, hugging his slender waist, falling to his ankles, leaving his feet bare.

Elizabeth finished her inspection, letting out an involuntary sigh and sound of surprise. Darcy broke from his reverie and looked quickly to her face.

“Elizabeth, are you well?”

“Pardon?”

“You seem startled. Are you displeased in some way?” he asked nervously.

She blushed furiously and looked away, stammering, “Oh, no, I am fine. It is just that…” she trailed off lamely.

“It is just, what?”

She could not meet his eyes and her face was red. He did not know whether to be alarmed or to laugh at her sudden discomfiture. He lifted her chin gently until she reluctantly met his eyes. “We promised to be completely honest with each other, remember? Please tell me what you are thinking.”

“I… well, I was just noticing… that… well,” she swallowed and looked at him boldly, “you have nice feet!”

He could not speak for a moment, then burst out laughing. He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly. Still laughing, he said, “My darling Lizzy! You are so very delightful.” He pulled back slightly so he could see her face. Grinning broadly, he said, “Thank you, my love. I can safely assert that no one, with the possible exception of my dear mother, has ever commented on my feet!”

“You are making fun of me,” she accused, with a playful slap to his chest.

“Of course I am! How could I not? Only you, beloved, can make me laugh so.” He kissed her lips quickly, then proceeded to plant tiny kisses along her jaw until he reached her ear. He breathed deeply of her scent and whispered softly, nervously, “Do only my feet delight you, or did you manage to discover other equally pleasing attributes during your inspection?”

During his kisses she had felt the familiar flutters and tingles that she always experienced when he kissed her and had closed her eyes. Speaking, in fact coherent thought of any kind, seemed next to impossible. Even so, Lizzy being Lizzy, she answered, “Perfectly adequate, Mr. Darcy, I daresay. Unfortunately, so much remains covered that I cannot in truth render a full accounting. Perhaps we can remedy this oversight on your part posthaste so I can answer your query with total knowledge.”

Darcy had ceased his ministrations to her neck and was watching her as she spoke, a happy smile on his lips. Oh how he loved her! How he wanted her! But he had promised himself that he would control his desires and take this night slowly. He wanted to enjoy every moment with her, every word, every touch, every sound, and every smell. He was determined that she find pleasure and complete joy in being with him, in becoming his wife in every sense of the word.

“All in due time, Mrs. Darcy. First, I have a wedding present for you.” He took her by the hand and seated her on the sofa. He went to the armoire and pulled out a square box wrapped with blue paper and tied with a thick blue ribbon. He returned to her and placed it into her lap, kneeling before her. “For you, my wife, always to remember this day, the happiest day of my life.”

Elizabeth was slowly shaking her head and tears filled her eyes. “William, you should not have. You have given me so many wonderful gifts already! All I need to remember and mark this day is you… only you.”

Darcy smiled, “Thank you, dearest. You shall always have me. Now you shall also have this meager token as well. Open it.”

Elizabeth untied the bow and pulled the wrapping away. Inside the box, lying on a bed of dark blue velvet, was a vanity set—brush, comb, and mirror— made of mother-of-pearl with Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy engraved on each handle. The craftsmanship was exquisite. She was overwhelmed.

“William, I do not know what to say. They are beautiful! I have never owned anything equal. Thank you so very much!” She leaned over and kissed him soundly.

Darcy beamed at her obvious pleasure. “You would have enjoyed the spectacle, my dear. I have come to realize how lacking my education is in the area of feminine requirements. I have, in fact, studiously avoided the subject in the past. Recently, I have discovered myself extremely fascinated by all the mysteries related to the fairer sex, or more specifically related to you. I scoured my extensive library and found not a single book that could answer the questions I had. I surmised that the only sure avenue open to me was to enter the shops in London that cater to the needs of women.”

Elizabeth could picture it clearly and the vision did make her smile. He went on, “I was most relieved to find that I was not the only gentlemen present in the establishments, but I certainly was the most ignorant! Fortunately, the proprietors were remarkably sympathetic and willing to further my education. So, I learned numerous incidentals, which I am certain will aid me in being an understanding husband. As for this particular gift, considering how ardently I admire your beauty and especially your lovely hair, it seemed fitting.”

“William, you are too good to me. I truly do not deserve you.”

“Nonsense,” he replied gruffly, “I love you and enjoy giving you gifts.” As he spoke, he absentmindedly reached up under her gown and began running his hand along her right calf. Time stood still for both of them. Instantaneously their mutual desires were awakened and their thoughts became riveted to their need for each other.

Gazing into her eyes with a deep intensity, Darcy took the box off Elizabeth’s lap, laid it on the floor, and then rose onto his knees, bringing himself level with her. He slowly ran his hands along the tops of her thighs and around her bottom, pulling her to the edge of the sofa. Her knees parted and he moved closer to her body as his hands leisurely caressed their way up her back, eventually entwining in her hair as he brought her lips to his and kissed her passionately.

She had watched him as if mesmerized as he stroked her body and repositioned himself closer to her. She could not breathe! He was so incredibly handsome and desirable. Her need for him was overpowering. She wanted to see all of him, touch him intimately, and feel him on her and in her. She wanted to become his wife fully with an ache that was nearly painful in its intensity.

She ran her hands up his chest and then under his robe, placing her fingers gently on his shoulders. With slow deliberation she peeled the robe off his shoulders, exposing his upper body as she lovingly ran her palms down his back. He let go of her long enough to remove his sleeves, baring his arms to her tender caress, and then encircled her again, never once leaving her sweet lips.

It was euphoric! The feelings, the taste, their senses overwhelmed. Elizabeth boldly reached down and untied his sash, feeling the robe fall to the ground. Darcy moaned and in one swift, graceful motion rose from his kneeling position, gathering Elizabeth into powerful arms and carrying her to their bed.

Darcy stretched next to his wife’s lovely body, careful to keep his hips away from her flesh for the time being. He experienced a momentary stab of fear that he would not be able to keep his self-promise to proceed slowly, bringing Lizzy to pleasure first. His need for her was all consuming and powerful. He may never have been with a woman himself, but he knew that obtaining his own release was an easy task. The finer art of bringing her enjoyment was another matter. That was where his inexperience, coupled with a raging hunger for personal fulfillment and a need to make her his own, could lead to failure. Such was his love for her and his prideful wish to succeed as a giving lover, that he clutched onto his fear and used it to restore his faculties and level his ardor.

Elizabeth’s hands were around his neck, fingers massaging his scalp through his thick hair. She was watching him, eyes full of love and trust and desire with only a hint of nervousness. She seemed quite unafraid; however, Darcy knew this could change if he moved too fast. He stroked her cheek and jaw line and neck, all areas he had touched before, successfully bringing her enjoyment. She quivered and sighed, closing her eyes.

“I love you so very much, Elizabeth,” he whispered against her lips. “Do not be afraid. I promise to be gentle.” He lightly kissed every delicate feature of her face, ending at the sensitive area behind her ear. “You must show me what you like. Tell me in words or, if this embarrasses you, simply relax your body and I will know by your reactions. We shall learn from each other, my precious. Do you understand, my love?”

She nodded and whispered, “I love you, William. I am not afraid.” She proved her words by rubbing her hands down his back and turning slightly to her side, loosely draping one leg over his and pulling him toward her. They both gasped simultaneously. She, from the feel of his incredible heat and hardness. He, from her unexpectedly bold action, which threatened to undo him.

He swallowed and inhaled vigorously. He opened his eyes to see her gazing at him, an expression of wonder and a small smile on her lips. He kissed her then, a kiss unlike any they had yet shared. The joy of being able to abandon all restraint and to explore each other’s mouths was exhilarating. They surrendered themselves fully to the excitement to be gained from indulgent kisses. For a time all the focus was on the transcendent joy of shared breath and moisture.

Hands began moving of their own volition. Darcy untied her gown and exposed her shoulders and breasts without coherent forethought. Lizzy delighted in the muscles of his back and shoulders and arms. He was soft and rough at the same time, and it inflamed her further. Darcy trailed his fingers down her collar to her shoulder and then to her soft bosom. Fire trailed feathering fingertips; shivers of heat and ice coursed through their flesh.

His mouth left her lips and traveled over her neck. Soft kisses interspersed with tiny nibbles and feather touches of his warm mouth passed across her shoulders and fragile collarbones. Lizzy sighed and trembled in pleasure. Darcy was jolted with almost excruciating waves of satisfaction. Her taste was bliss, her warmth exquisite, her soft vocalizations heavenly. Lizzy arched involuntarily, exposing her neck to his moist lips and tongue, all the while caressing solid shoulders. One would be hard pressed to say who was more deeply affected.

“Beautiful love,” he murmured against her throat, “so unbelievably beautiful. How deeply I love you my Elizabeth, my wife.” Gradually, so very tenderly, he traveled wet kisses to her breasts. Never had he imagined anything as beautiful as the feel of her flesh under his lips and tongue. It was rapturous! She moaned, pulling his head harder onto her breasts with sharp clenches in his hair.

“William, sweet love. Please do not stop.”

He spent endless stunning minutes of ecstasy teasing and tasting the perfection of her bosom, with one hand caressing lightly over her satin-clad waist. He rose, urgently needing to gaze upon her precious face. Her eyes opened, glazed and inundated with a passion never revealed before, as she looked upon him.

Darcy rolled his upper body over hers, heat seeping into her very bones, and leaned up on his elbows to caress her breasts, purposefully arousing her. “Are you well, beloved? Does this please you?”

She swallowed, nodding faintly. “William, I… I cannot describe… your touch moves me so. Oh, please, love, please kiss me!” she moaned, offering lush parted lips with obvious yearning, hands tight on his shoulders.

He reclaimed her mouth, groaning deep in his throat, delving into the depths of her mouth possessively and completely. Lizzy held his neck in a savage grip, meeting his kiss with equal passion and enthusiasm, her other hand exploring brazenly. She involuntarily curved her hips toward him, unwittingly increasing pressure to his leg and other sensitive parts.

“Elizabeth!” he gasped and released her slightly, raggedly gulping for air. He dropped his head to her chest and forced himself to stop moving, frantically seizing the frayed edges of his control.

“William, my love! I am sorry. Did I hurt you somehow?” Her voice was full of anxiety.

Darcy could not explain why it struck him as humorous, but it did. He laughed faintly, breath tickling her sensitive bosom, and shook his head. He kissed each perfect breast and then lifted up to look upon her amazing face. “No, my precious, you did not hurt me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I am frankly becoming undone by the bliss I am feeling being in your arms… touching you… kissing you. I must slow down. Ah, my beautiful wife, you have absolutely no idea how I yearn for you!”

She smiled happily and rose up to his lips. “Yes, Fitzwilliam,” she purred, “I do know. I yearn for you as well and do not wish to slow down.” She kissed him playfully as she had so longed to do, teasing his lips, tasting the skin of his jaw, exploring the cleft in his chin. Her fingers moved freely over his face and neck, toying with his ear folds as fire ignited anew over his flesh.

He passively allowed her investigation but was tremendously affected. He had managed to regain a semblance of control but he realized with certainty that he could not persevere for much longer. His arousal and ardor had reached a point bordering on pain. God, he needed to make her his! It was an uncontainable force burning through his very soul. He still refused to rush to the degree that he might hurt her or fail to bring her to total fulfillment; however, he needed to step up the pace. He felt her tremors, heard her sighs of longing, and knew what to do.

“Elizabeth,” he asked huskily, “may I please see all of you?”

Her answer was to gently push him away as she sat up in the bed. He propped himself up with his arm and avidly watched her. She flushed in embarrassment at his intense stare but daringly did as he wished, gaze averted. She wiggled her arms and the top part of her gown fell to her waist. Darcy’s eyes drank in the vision of her newly exposed skin. She was lovelier than he had imagined, absolutely stunning. She gripped the fabric at her waist and, with a quick lift of her bottom, pulled her gown past her hips.

A guttural groan escaped Darcy’s throat, startling Lizzy yet sending a massive surge of heat lancing through her body. Darcy snapped out of his entrancement, reaching over and running the back of his hand along her inner thigh as he peeled the gown off her legs, tossing it absently away. Lizzy quivered at his touch, sighed deeply, and closed her eyes.

“My God, Elizabeth! You are perfect and so stunningly beautiful.” He swallowed, eyes leaving her body with difficulty to meet her glittering gaze. With agonizing patience he reached to brush trembling fingertips over her skin, collarbone to nipples to ripe breasts to navel and then along her shapely legs. Lizzy was panting in short gasps, examining his intense expression, and discovering the rising ardency gained from his clear adoration of her form and the indescribable titillation of his touch.

Gradually her gaze left his face to move over his body, truly seeing him for the first time. Blushes crept over her cheeks, but she could not pull her eyes from the beauty of his shape. That he was powerfully built she had ascertained even through his clothing, but she had not known the raw manliness evident in the defined muscles of his torso. Black hairs, profuse over his chest but compacting into a heavy patch between his pectorals, trailed in a thick line down a hard, flat abdomen to join a much denser patch at his groin. Her eyes widened and she hastily glanced away, cheeks flushing further at the instant ache felt deep inside her belly. Never had she envisioned such virility or the raging response she felt to all she saw and all he was doing to her. With a shuddering moan, she closed her eyes.

“Lie back, my love,” he commanded tensely. She did so as he repositioned himself. Lizzy thought this was it, and she was mildly frightened but mostly elated. She was mistaken. He gently began raining warm wet kisses over her abdomen, firm hands caressing everywhere. The sensations that he educed transcended anything she had yet experienced. He was unrelenting but always tender in his stimulation, arousing her to places unimaginable, the previous fervency insignificant compared to what she now felt. Forever, so it seemed, he caressed and kissed. Not an inch of her skin was left unfazed by his devotion.

Dizziness consumed her. Time lost all meaning. Soft whispers of love flowed from his lips as he traveled about her flesh. Her body writhed and shivered uncontrollably and strange vocalizations emitted from parted lips until eventually the sensations coalesced into a nearly terrifying intensity. All she knew for certain was that she required fulfillment from him immediately or she was likely to perish from the aching need.

“William!” she shouted, “I need you! Please!”

At her cry he moved until fully on top of her. His fiery body pressed into hers as he twined one hand into her hair and around her neck, passionately claiming her mouth with a throaty groan. Simultaneously his other hand grasped the back of one knee, pulling her leg up and around his waist as he joined with her, lovingly consummating their marriage and bond.

Darcy groaned, the joy of feeling his wife surrounding him and at one with him nearly more than he could handle. It was Lizzy’s gasp of pain and instant stiffening that restored his clarity.

“Relax, my love,” he murmured, “it only hurts for a moment.” To prove the truth of his words, he stilled, caressing softly and kissing deeply until she eased. Gazing into her trusting eyes, his own glittering indigo and brimming with adoration, he waited.

“We are one, my beloved. Joined together. Hearts and bodies bound now and forever. Oh, Lord, Elizabeth! How I love you! You are mine and I am yours for all eternity. Release your tension, precious love. I will be gentle.” He spoke softly, caressing and kissing.

Lizzy smiled, gently tightening the legs wrapped over his waist and gliding her fingertips over his cheeks. “Love me, William. Complete making me your wife,” she whispered, eyes slipping shut in rapture as she lifted her mouth to his.

He closed his eyes and moaned, moving unhurriedly, suppressing his flaming yearning until fervor replaced her discomfort. Afterwards, Darcy would be amazed at himself for finding the control to set a leisurely pace. His restraint was short lived, however, due to her reawakened passion. His pace quickened with a feverish hunger, Lizzy spurring him on. It was nirvana! Pleasure and gratification as never before experienced. They surrendered themselves to the spiraling sensations of pure pleasure and cried each other’s names while clinging to each other in a desperate attempt to meld further.

Darcy collapsed onto her, too exhausted and satiated to move. Lizzy wrapped her limbs even tighter about him while tears of joy leaked from her eyes. Neither of them could have verbalized then, or ever, the riot of emotions swirling inside. Suffice to say, nothing had prepared either of them for the satisfaction, contentment, and unadulterated ecstasy of the reality.

How long they lay entwined, their wits rattled, hearts racing, and breathing erratic, they never knew. Lizzy moved first by planting kisses along Darcy’s sweat-glistened shoulder and neck, repeating I love you as a litany. With a final shuddering exhale, Darcy rose slightly so that he could see his wife. They simply looked upon each other for long moments. Darcy caressed her face and kissed gently. He started to move off her, but she tenaciously clutched him.

“Do not leave!”

“Am I not crushing you?”

“No,” she assured him, grasping him even tighter with arms and legs. “I love the feel of you.” She blushed slightly, ridiculous under the circumstances, and he chuckled.

“As you command, my wife.” He kissed her, lingering over her soft warm lips. “My wife,” he whispered, “mine, all mine, and only mine. My Lizzy. Forever. I love you so. We are wholly and utterly one now, my love. I am yours, my heart, forever.”

He caressed her body lazily, delighting in her silky skin and firm muscles. His thumb brushed along the edge of one breast where it swelled from under his chest. His kisses traveled over her neck to her ear.

Lizzy tantalized him with hands and legs. She discovered the enticing spectacle of round, tight buttocks. His taut muscular legs, hairs rough against her smoothness, sent shivers up her spine. The musky smell of his familiar cologne now mixed with perspiration and their love intoxicated her. Neither dreamed of breaking the contact, their bodies fused on every plane. Satiation and bliss attained so few minutes ago only whetted their appetite for each other, heightening their senses.

They were both agreeably surprised to find themselves becoming stimulated so soon. Lizzy, having no previous experience to draw from, took it in stride, assuming it was normal. Darcy was frankly stupefied to recognize excitement resurging so soon, his desire for her so intense as to become profoundly aroused mere minutes after such an incredible, soul-unifying crescendo.

He may have been surprised, but he certainly was not disappointed! This time their coupling was altogether different. Following so quickly upon their previous gratification, Darcy was in much better control. His stamina was amplified tremendously, with mutual approval. They kissed and caressed wherever they could reach, both experimenting with altering pressures and rhythms. Gradually they attuned themselves to their partner’s sighs and moans as a gauge for what was especially pleasurable. Occasionally they spoke, but they soon found that sensations, actions, and sounds were preferable.

It seemed to continue forever. As one would near the point of bursting, the other would slow their actions, increasing the aching and craving. Time and again they came near the pinnacle only to pull back for further enjoyment. Eventually it was more than they could bear, and both were taken by acute spasms that shook them head to toe in rapture beyond the words to convey.

Quite some time later, they lay blissfully depleted and satiated, limbs entangled. Elizabeth’s head lay partly on Darcy’s shoulder and partly on a pillow so she could admire his face. They were awake but drowsy, talking softly, enjoying simply being together in such sweet harmony. Darcy played with her hair where it cascaded over his arm, while Elizabeth traced lazy circles over his chest and stomach. They spoke of silly things, small talk, more to hear each other’s voices than for any purpose.

The final acts of love had been far superior to any imaginings either of them had entertained. Darcy, never a great admirer of romantic poetry, finally understood. Each day, each moment with Elizabeth had transcended the one before. Tonight they had reached dizzying heights, and it honestly seemed impossible to love her more.

Darcy would have had to confess that he believed his heart would burst if he experienced anything beyond what he felt at this moment. He had told her, when he proposed the second time, that she had bewitched him body and soul, and it was true. Now he knew that she owned him, lived inside of him, kept his heart beating, and gave him purpose. If it had not felt so very right, it might have terrified him.

Real life intruded when Darcy’s stomach growled loudly and abruptly as if in response to Lizzy’s fingers, which had been playfully examining his navel. They both laughed at the absurdity of it.

“Hungry, darling?” Elizabeth asked. “Have your recent exertions increased your appetite?”

“I have eaten sparsely today, my love. Nerves, I suppose.” He rolled onto his side and began kissing her bare shoulder. “I was much more interested in satisfying other hungers so that I ignored my more basic needs. What is food compared to your love?”

“Very pretty. However, I am beginning to experience pangs of my own. The Hamiltons have supplied us with an abundance of food and it would be rude to ignore it,” Elizabeth said, but then grinned mischievously as she ran her hand along his inner thigh. “Besides, we must take care to restore our energies, do you not agree, beloved?”

He quickly snared her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each of her fingers lingeringly. “You minx! I do believe a tigress has been unleashed tonight!” He pulled her to him and indulged in several kisses before again being interrupted by a loud growl from his empty stomach.

“Poor Mr. Darcy!” she laughed.

“Stay warm, Elizabeth. I shall fetch your robe and stoke the fire.” With a last kiss, Darcy left the bed and retrieved his robe from where it had been unceremoniously discarded by the sofa.

Elizabeth propped herself up on one elbow, the better to watch her handsome husband. Contentment flowed through her entire being as she lay so relaxed in the large bed. It had been an arduous day full of countless anxieties and abounding wonders. She was tired yet exhilarated at the same time. Happiness was a palpable entity that surrounded her and permeated her very soul. Just observing him performing the mundane task of adding logs to the fire was a pleasure beyond imagining. How is it possible to love someone this much? She asked herself. Is it normal? Probably not, but it certainly was magnificent and she would not wish it any other way.

Darcy returned from her dressing room with a thick robe and helped her into it. Or more precisely he delayed the process with numerous kisses and caresses, but Elizabeth did not mind. Finally they sat on the rug before the now raging fire with the platter of food on the floor. Darcy popped the well-chilled champagne and poured them each a glass. “To us,” he toasted, “the happiest couple on the face of the earth!”

Darcy attacked the superb provisions with relish and Elizabeth was not too far behind. They had fun with the process: feeding each other morsels, licking and sucking each other’s fingers, and kissing honey-smeared lips. Eventually even Darcy’s appetite was quenched and, with a satisfied sigh, he reclined on an enormous pillow. Elizabeth leaned against his bent knee and gazed dreamily into the fire. Neither spoke. Words were unnecessary. A warm blanket of peace and bliss covered them.

Darcy began to drift into sleep, warm and relaxed by the fire. Lizzy was lazily caressing the leg and knee she leaned against and the sensation was calming. As far as Darcy was concerned, life could not possibly get any better than this. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Elizabeth turned to gaze at her husband. He had a soft smile on his lips, hair in disarray, and one arm raised above his head and the other lying across his stomach. The robe was loosely tied so most of his chest was exposed. She recognized that, despite the intimacies of the last hours, she actually had not had the opportunity to examine her husband’s form closely, as she had teasingly told him she needed to do.

He was so beautiful and perfect to her eyes. She had spent the past weeks memorizing his face and intimately knew every inch of it. The small scar on his right cheek was the result of a tree branch while riding when he was fifteen, he had told her. She knew how long it took from the time he shaved until whiskers began to reappear, and that they sprouted first along his upper lip.

She had discovered that his eye color altered depending on his mood or what he wore. When he was thinking passionate thoughts of her, his lips would part slightly and eyelids would flutter. When he was annoyed or concentrating, his jaw would tighten and several small creases would appear between his brows. When he was very angry, his eyes would darken almost to black and his lips would press tightly together into a thin line. She had found that a singular expression crossed his features with thoughts of each person he loved. He had his “Georgiana face” and “Richard face” and “Mrs. Reynolds face” and “Elizabeth face.”

At times her hurtful words came back to haunt her. Your arrogance, conceit… selfish disdain for the feelings of others. Oh, how could she have thought such things! He would be angry with her if he knew she was remembering those words because they had spent hours discussing the past, their mutual errors, and had promised to learn from them and then put it all behind them. Perhaps in time it would no longer wrack her with guilt, but she continued to loathe herself for the pain she had caused him. Knowing now the depth of his emotions toward those he loves, his loyalty, the profound grief he carries for those he has lost, and his goodness, made it all the harder to forgive herself. Not for the first time she vowed to herself that she would never cause him pain again.

Impulsively she kissed his knee, causing his sleepy smile to deepen, and then gently pushed his leg down while she resituated herself between his legs. He opened his eyes, still smiling, and considered her movements with interest. She carefully opened his robe to initiate her inspection.

“Elizabeth?” he whispered.

She smiled. “I made a promise, sir, to give you a full accounting of all your attributes that are pleasing to my eyes. Never let it be uttered that I do not keep my promises. Now, relax.”

“That may be a challenging order to follow, my beloved, if you continue in this manner.”

Elizabeth did not reply. Her fingers traveled slowly over him, noting his muscles, counting each rib, graphing the pattern of his chest hair. She reveled in the contrast of smoothness and roughness, felt each of his breaths and the beating of his heart. She grazed rigid nipples and he inhaled sharply. She detected for the first time a bump atop one of his ribs. “What caused this?” she asked quietly.

“I fell out of a tree when I was twelve,” he answered. “Broke my rib and lacerated my arm here,” and he rolled up his sleeve showing her a long scar along his inner left arm. “Ten stitches. My mother was furious but Father just laughed. ‘Boys must be allowed to be boys,’ he said.” Darcy chuckled at the memory. “My mother kept me abed for a week, and Mrs. Reynolds forced all manner of hideous-tasting concoctions down my throat. I am convinced they punished me due to their own fright, rather than any actual need of my own.”

Elizabeth loved how his eyes glowed when he spoke of his family. He did it rarely, the memories being very painful to him. His childhood was much a mystery to her. She could not wait until she was at Pemberley, the place where he grew up, the place he loved more than any other. She remembered how at ease he had been there when they had spent their glorious day together, how he laughed and smiled. Somehow she knew that their relationship and understanding would reach even greater heights once in his home.

“I cannot quite picture you climbing trees,” she said, her head tilting to the side. “You seem more the library-dwelling boy to me.”

He laughed. “Well, I did rather spend inordinate amounts of time in the library, but I do love the outdoors. I generally prefer riding my horse to long walks, although I am coming to appreciate what can be accomplished on long, solitary walks.” He grinned slyly and she blushed, knowing full well to what he was referring. “I was not normally stupidly reckless though. It was usually George…,” he stopped abruptly as a dark cloud crossed his face, “… Wickham that baited me into something foolish. He dared me to climb the tree, in fact. Of course, the fault was mine in allowing him to drive me to such follies.” He took a deep breath and, with a visible shrug, he shoved the unpleasant memory aside. He looked at her face, shining above him with pure love and devotion. It was impossible, he thought, to stay morose with such beauty to behold.

He tenderly captured one of her tresses in his hand and twined it around his fingers. For long moments they gazed at each other, enraptured by the love they felt. Thoughts of sleep vanished. Darcy started to rise up, intent on taking her into his arms, but she stayed him with her hands. “I am not finished, sir,” she murmured and lowered her face to his neck as she stretched fully onto him. It was her turn to bestow feather kisses to all his sensitive places and to discover the secrets of how to please him. This she did with an intensity and directness that left him beyond breathless… and completely satisfied.

Their wedding night was not yet over.