Fitzwilliam Darcy was having the most extraordinary dream of his entire life. Elizabeth was there, although that fact was not unusual since she had graced the vast majority of his dreams for months now. This dream, however, was exceedingly more erotic than any of the previous ones, and, yes, there had been several! Darcy was enjoying this dream enormously and did not want it to stop, so it was with tremendous dismay that he felt the beginning tendrils of consciousness return. He valiantly fought against them, but the tingles in his right arm persisted no matter how many times his subconscious self tried to move the offending appendage.
The cold blast of wakefulness was like a knife to his heart. He had really liked that dream! So acute was his disappointment that one can imagine the soaring heights instantaneously reached when he realized that the object of his dream was in his arms. In fact, it was her head, which at some point during her sleep had crept from his chest to the inner aspect of his elbow, that was causing his arm to burn. The irony of it did not escape him, and he chuckled softly.
Memories of the fine dream, coupled with the vision of her beauty before him, were temporarily enough to drive away the ever-increasing discomfort to his poor extremity. For some moments he manfully bore the pain and watched her sleep. It was an enchanting sight to behold. Her lush lips were slightly parted, her thick lashes resting peacefully on her rosy cheeks, her mane of hair scattered haphazardly about, and her creamy neck and shoulders visible. Darcy could quite contentedly have stared at her all day, but now his fingers had lost all feeling.
Resolving this issue was suddenly one of the most problematical calamities of his life! He did not want to wake her, nor did he want to remove his arm completely. He thought maybe he could roll her gently back towards his body, a pleasurable prospect, but his arm now had not only lost all sensation but refused to comply with his brain’s request. He saw no choice but to use his left arm, which would probably mean waking her up.
There seemed to be no other option, so he began to reach for her. Just at that moment, she stretched her body, sighed deeply, nestled closer to his side, and moved her head back to his chest. Darcy sent silent thanks to whichever guardian angel takes care of these sticky situations.
His relief was short-lived, sadly, due to the sudden rush of blood that ignited a blaze of fresh pain in his unfortunate arm. He gritted his teeth, and his whole body tensed and shuddered in his effort not to cry out and wake his peacefully sleeping wife. Eventually the torture subsided and he was able to move his arm again. Naturally he made good use of it by hugging his wife against his side, resting his hand on her silky hip.
Well, that was interesting, he thought. Certainly a drawback to sleeping with someone that has never occurred to me, but most assuredly worth the experience. He lifted his head slightly to view the clock. A quarter to nine! Darcy could not remember the last time he had slept so late. Of course, neither could he remember the last time he had slept so deeply and contentedly, nor woken up feeling so amazingly refreshed and blissful. He sighed and closed his eyes again, a joyous smile on his face.
As pleasant as his dream had been, the reality of his wedding night was vastly superior. They had ended their first night of marriage by loving each other before the fire on the bearskin rug. Elizabeth’s initiative, coupled with the location of their union, had added another dimension to what they had already discovered to be a most delicious activity. Darcy never claimed to be a particularly creative man, but how he could not have imagined being with Elizabeth in a site other than his bed surprised him. He was a trifle embarrassed, but he now found his mind drifted to all sorts of promising possibilities. Pemberley had any number of secluded areas, both inside and out, that would work nicely. Good God, man! Listen to yourself! But the self-chastisement was ignored and the erotic ruminations manifested themselves physically.
His decadent musings were interrupted by movement from his wife. She murmured something unintelligible, stretched, and then rose up from his chest so she could see his face. “You are awake,” she said with a happy smile and reached up to brush his hair.
He caught her hand and kissed it. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”
“Extraordinarily well. I had the most charming dreams. Quite invigorating, actually,” she said with an impish grin.
“Really? How so?”
She smiled roguishly. “There was a man there. Could not quite determine who he was, but he made me feel so nice.” She purposefully assumed a dreamy expression. “Black hair he had, dark green eyes, rather short…”
Darcy stopped her words with an ardent kiss, lasting just long enough to leave her breathless, and then he released her abruptly. “Does that drive thoughts of this other scoundrel from your mind, or must I search him out and challenge him to a duel?” There was an edge to his voice, but Lizzy did not detect it.
“Hmmm… A hazy memory remains. I fear I may need more persuading.”
Darcy brusquely flipped her onto her back, trapping her wrists above her head with one hand. His other clutched her bottom, securing her against his hips with her legs parting naturally to accommodate him. He kissed her deeply, covetously assailing her mouth as far as he could manage.
“Listen to me, Elizabeth Darcy,” he growled huskily, “You are mine! I forbid you to dream of any other but me.” He punctuated his intense words with firm presses of his arousal into her pelvis. She moaned and writhed with the pleasurable sensations arising and struggled to free her captive arms, but he held her fast. He moved his lips along her neck and shoulders, tenderly nibbling and sucking.
Her squirming became frantic with the urgent need to hold him, and she arched into his flaming body, moaning and whimpering. “Please, William!” she cried in desperation.
“What do you want, my wife?”
“I need you!”
“Tell me what you need,” he commanded.
“I must have you. Hurry!”
His voice was guttural and hoarse with desire and jealousy and a hint of vulnerability. “Say you want me, Elizabeth, only me!”
Somehow through the haze of her passion-induced stupor, Lizzy heard and sensed the frailty in his tone. A pang of guilt ran through her and she forced her eyes open. He was watching her with a dreadful intensity. As calmly and softly as possible, she said, “Always and forever it is you, Fitzwilliam. Only you I want and need… ” Her words were cut off by a massive gasp of sensual delight as he claimed her mouth, her body, her heart, and her soul.
When they were blissfully spent, he rolled to the side, bringing her with him in a tight embrace. It was a while before either of them had sufficient lung capacity to speak. It was Darcy who broke the silence, “I am sorry, Elizabeth, if I was too rough, if I frightened you.” He sounded so miserable and regretful. “I should not have allowed my petty jealousy to govern me. My passion for you overruled my senses.”
Elizabeth rose up to see his face and was pained by the sadness she saw where only happiness should reign. “William, look at me,” she demanded, and he did. “If there is fault, it is mine for making such a poor jest. My tongue often rules over my reason, as you know.” She moved closer, grasping his face in her hands firmly. “I love you beyond the words to express it. It frightens me how much I love you because my very existence is now inexorably bound to yours. I am not easy with these feelings of vulnerability. It is my nature to make light of serious matters or to tease when I am afraid. Forgive me for my thoughtlessness.”
He opened his mouth to reply but she stopped him with her fingers to his lips. “Know this,” she continued, “You are everything to me. I have never loved another and I never will. I dream only of you and I desire only you. You have bewitched me, body and soul, Fitzwilliam Darcy. You are mine!” she finished fiercely and kissed him ravenously.
When she eventually released him, he was breathless and flushed, lips ruddy and swollen. She smiled then, a smile of pure naughtiness, as she ran a finger along his jaw. “Besides,” she said, “I rather liked what you did to me, if you could not tell. Rough is acceptable now and then.”
Darcy was at a momentary loss for words. Her declaration of love using the spontaneously uttered phrase from his successful proposal, followed by the intensity of her kiss, was a thrilling surprise and soothing balm to his fragile heart. He did not doubt the sincerity of her expressed love for him but was uncertain if its depth matched the all-consuming passion he held for her. Equally titillating was her obvious reciprocating ardor. He knew that Lizzy was passionate by nature; nonetheless, he had not allowed himself to automatically assume this would transfer to bedroom activities.
While his mind was still whirling, Lizzy further proved her love and desire for her new husband by snuggling nearer and bestowing kisses to his chest, thus beginning a long interlude of mutual exploration and pleasure.
Quite some time later, blissfully content in their sweet communion and satisfaction, Lizzy broke the silence first.
“William, may I ask you a personal question?” she inquired faintly and with hesitation, not meeting his eyes.
“Of course, beloved, you can ask anything of me. Have we not established this?”
She did not reply hastily; instead, she toyed with the hairs on his chest and kept her face turned away. Darcy frowned, sensing her discomfiture and beginning to feel a rising concern. Just as he was about to force her to look at him, she spoke.
“Before our wedding, when I told you about my fears and nightmares and you shared your past with me, you assured me you were… chaste as I was. I do not doubt your assertions. I know you would never deceive me, yet you…” She paused, not sure of the proper words to say or how to overcome her embarrassment to proceed.
Darcy was flummoxed as to where she was leading. He had been truthful with her regarding his innocence and could not understand her thoughts, especially in light of how amazing the consummation of their union has been. Was she disappointed? Had he failed her in some way? He paled and the fears of inadequacy shoved aside before their marriage came crashing over him. He struggled to formulate a thought but then she resumed her inquiry.
“Perhaps I am merely displaying my own innocence and… ignorance, William, but you seem to be… well, knowledgeable and confident, and… frankly, I did not anticipate… our… joining being so wonderful!”
In a rush of emotions, Lizzy conquered her shyness and embarrassment. She lifted up and actually glared at her husband, as if challenging him to give an explanation.
Darcy experienced a profound wave of relief and, truth be told, no minute amount of egotistical satisfaction at her confession, so he laughed.
Her eyes opened wide and then narrowed dangerously. “Fitzwilliam Darcy! Do not laugh at me. This is serious.”
He hugged her tight to his chest and kissed her cheek and, still chuckling, captured her face in his hands and held her eyes intently with his shining blue ones. “Elizabeth, you delight me so. I honestly divulged my virginity to you, and I am abundantly thankful the situation arose for me to do so. I entered our marriage inexperienced, beloved, with no practical knowledge. However, I never claimed to be uneducated. I told you how precocious I was and how adamantly my father assured my education. There are many ways to learn, and Pemberley has a very extensive library.”
Lizzy’s eyes widened and then she laughed. She kissed him lightly. “Will you show me these books, Fitzwilliam?” she asked, smiling wickedly.
It was nearing ten o’clock before they finally arose from their tousled bed. Darcy was quite famished again and needed coffee. He rang for breakfast while Elizabeth retired to her dressing room to freshen up. Darcy also took the time to clean himself up, pulling on a shirt and breeches at random.
The breakfast tray arrived just as Elizabeth reentered the room. She had clad herself in a lovely burgundy gown that Darcy had never seen before. Her face was pink from washing, and she had hastily pulled her hair back with a white ribbon, so it hung as a tail down her back. Darcy was struck anew by how beautiful she was and how marvelous it was to be married so he could view her in such casual attire. Elizabeth was thinking the very same thought. She adored how handsome her husband looked with his shirt loosely tucked and open at his neck, feet bare. He was handsome in his complete dress, but here was a picture of him that only she would be privy to.
After a quick kiss, they sat down. Elizabeth curled up in the chair, tucking her feet under her. She poured coffee for Darcy and tea for herself. The simple task of serving her husband sent a surge of happiness through her heart. For his part, Darcy could not cease staring at her. After all that had transpired yesterday and last night and this morning, it still seemed dreamlike that they had finally arrived at this place when, for so long, he had despaired of ever being with her.
“You are staring, Mr. Darcy. Do I have a distracting blemish on my face?” she teased.
He laughed, “Sorry, my dear. No, you do not have any blemishes. I am entranced by your beauty, that is all.”
“Quite the flatterer you have become, sir. So charming. Who would believe it of you?”
“Well, as I intend to save my best flattery for when we are alone, no one would believe you even if you were to inform them.”
“So, am I to infer that you will be devising and practicing said flattery beforehand? If so, you must remember to give as unstudied an air as possible.”
Darcy grinned at her reference. “Perhaps I shall occasionally plan my flattery; however, as you are well aware of how uncreative I am, my dear, I would imagine that the pleasing compliments will usually proceed from the impulse of the moment.”
They both laughed and she threw a grape at him. “Ridiculous man! Read your newspaper and let me eat in peace!”
He did his best to comply with her request, discovering that it was quite challenging to focus on world events with her across the table. As the meal proceeded, they both relaxed. Neither of them knew it at the time, but they were innocently setting the stage for what was to become a morning ritual for the rest of their lives. Except for those occasions when guests were present or business separated them, they would breakfast together quietly each day in their joint sitting room. Darcy would read the newspaper and Elizabeth would read a book. They would discuss their daily plans or estate business or items from the news. The staff would be instructed not to interrupt the Master and Mistress until they were called for. Even their children would breakfast apart. This time would become a favorite and necessary part of their day.
“What are we to do with ourselves today?” she asked at one point. “Have you made any specific plans?”
Darcy put the newspaper down and gave his full attention to his wife. “Nothing specific,” he replied. “We could always stay here all day.” He gave his wife a naughty leer. “I am sure we could dream up something to occupy our time. Or if you would rather, the village is quite close so we could ramble through it and see if there is anything that you wish to purchase. The Hamiltons have a gig available, if you wish to take a drive in the country or around the lake. The weather appears to be fine enough for a drive. Too bad it is winter, as a picnic would be an agreeable pastime.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Oh? Did a law pass of which I am unaware that we can only enjoy our meals outdoors in the spring or summer?”
He was surprised. “I did not mean to imply that such activities are unlawful in the winter, Mrs. Darcy, as you well know! I am solicitous regarding your comfort, however. It is late November and quite cold outside.”
Lizzy laughed. “Honestly, William, I thought you knew me better than that! When has the weather ever hindered me?”
“As you wish, Madame. A picnic it shall be. I beg one concession, however. You must endure my fussing over you and not argue if I deem it is too chilly to remain outdoors. Agreed?” She nodded her assent, smiling placidly.
They each retired to their dressing rooms to finalize dressing for their day out. Darcy finished first and crossed the bedchamber to Elizabeth’s door. He knocked tentatively. “Elizabeth?”
“Come in,” she called.
He opened the door and was startled to see her alone, sitting at the vanity with her arms up, pinning her hair. “Did the maid not respond to your summons?” he asked, fully prepared to complain to Mr. Hamilton immediately.
“I did not summon her,” Lizzy said. She noted his baffled face in the mirror and smiled. “I have been taking care of my own hair for years, my love. I am aware that this will likely change once I am at Pemberley, but for now I wish to do it myself. Does this disturb you?”
“Not in the least. I feared the service was lacking, that is all.” He stepped behind her and ran his fingers along her neck and shoulders. “Elizabeth, I do not wish you to alter any of your habits at Pemberley. If it pleases you to attend to your own hair, then it pleases me for you to continue doing so. I fell in love with you as you are. I do not desire for you to be anything other than my Lizzy.”
She gifted him with one of her dazzling smiles. Love and desire swept through him in a surging rush and he hastily removed his fingers, sensing a sharp and powerful urge to unfasten the buttons of her gown that threatened to overcome him. He retreated to a couple of paces and cleared his throat.
“I intruded on your privacy only to inform you that I am departing momentarily to speak with Mr. Hamilton about our needs for today. I will return for you when all is prepared. Be sure to dress warmly.”
“I will.” She pivoted the stool around so she could face him. “And William, you do not need to knock, and I shall never think of you as an intruder.”
Darcy beamed, once again amazed at how dissimilar she was to any woman he had ever known and how incredibly blessed he was to have found her. “That may take some adjusting to, my love, but thank you.”
They spent a lovely day together, this first day of the rest of their lives.
Darcy commandeered the gig with easy competence. Mrs. Hamilton had prepared a luncheon hamper for them and loaded the carriage with several thick blankets. Darcy looked Elizabeth over carefully before they set out to ensure she was well bundled. She laughed inwardly at his apprehensiveness but kept silent.
To begin with, they drove into the village. It was not a large town, about the size of Meryton, but there were numerous quaint shops to browse through. It was liberating to be able to stroll along together without being halted every few feet by people wishing to converse with them. No one was acquainted with them here, and no one assigned them a second glance. Lizzy quickly realized that she had to be cautious in exhibiting interest in even the smallest trinket because Darcy would insist on buying it for her. In spite of her guardedness, Darcy’s arms were encumbered with packages by the end of two hours, and he was forced to rearrange the blankets and hamper to make room in the gig.
Despite Darcy’s worries it was a beautiful day, crisp and cool, but the sun was warming and the sky cloud free. Snow had not yet fallen, nor had it recently rained, so the ground was dry. An intermittent breeze wafted but primarily the air was still, rich with the fragrance of winter blooms.
They leisurely drove along the edge of the river toward the small lake, admiring the countryside. Lizzy sat as close to his side as she could possibly manage, blankets covering them both. She rested one hand on his leg, feeling the warmth of him and delighting in his presence. They would stop periodically to marvel at a particular natural feature and take the opportunity to steal a few kisses. Eventually they discovered a level spot close to the lake’s edge that seemed perfect for their luncheon.
Once Darcy was satisfied with the comfort and warmth provided by three blankets laid upon the ground, he assisted Elizabeth from the carriage and nestled her snuggly, insisting on placing another blanket over her. It truly was not that cold, but he refused to take any chances that she might become ill. She was beginning to wonder if he would ever relax and thought that perhaps picnic had not been such a good idea after all. She appreciated his diligence regarding her well-being but could not prevent becoming annoyed.
To cover her waspishness, she busied herself with the lunch. Mrs. Hamilton had packed provisions enough for four grown men, including a bottle of red wine. The day was simply too marvelous and Lizzy far too happy in general to remain cranky for long. She also had learned over the past weeks that Mr. Darcy was especially mellow after dining. Today was no different.
They chatted as they ate. Conversation now came so easily to them that it was impossible to imagine that they had ever struggled so. The topics ranged widely from childhood memories to current events to family matters to literature to future plans and various points in between. By the time they had eaten their fill, Darcy was totally untroubled. He laid his head in her lap and read out loud from a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets while Elizabeth played with his hair, deliriously content merely to stare at his face and listen to his resonant voice.
After a bit they decided to stroll. They held hands as they meandered, sometimes talking and sometimes silent. They encountered not a soul. It was as if they were the only two people in the world. When passing a large oak tree, Darcy halted, leaned against the trunk, and gathered Elizabeth into his arms. For some time he merely held her pressed tight to his chest. She experienced a profound sense of peace and protection. His warmth radiated out of him, stalwart arms strong about her body, cheek resting on the top of her head.
In due course his soft lips traveled through her hair to her ear and then her neck, raining gentle kisses and sweet endearments along the way. He caressed her back through her coat, drawing her ever closer to him. Elizabeth gave in to the pleasure that his breath and touch elicited. How wonderful to be married so that they could freely allow their emotions to wash over them! Darcy allowed his hands to open her overcoat and travel deliciously about her curves. Lizzy did the same, pressing her body into his, feeling his arousal. Naturally there was a limit; both of them were cognizant that although they were not exactly in public, they were not in the privacy of their bedchamber. The precipice was reached when Darcy noted his hands, as if of their own accord, grasping and lifting her skirts at the same time that Lizzy untucked his shirt while running one delicate hand up his chest. Darcy groaned and knew he was at the edge of his endurance so they regretfully ceased, mutually deciding that, all things considered, it was time to return to the inn.
They packed up in haste and drove as speedily as safety permitted. Darcy bordered on curtness in instructing the servant that they would be dining at seven o’clock and not to disturb them for the rest of the afternoon. He failed to notice the servant’s smile of understanding, nor would he have cared.
The door to their room was barely latched before they were in each other’s arms, removing clothing as fast as humanly possible. Darcy’s jacket and waistcoat were easy enough for Lizzy to manage; the cravat was another matter. Lizzy’s fingers fumbled with what seemed like a dozen knots and twists, the process not aided by the fact that she was kissing his neck at the same time.
Darcy was distracted by her lips and focused on removing the innumerable pins binding her lustrous hair, but he became aware of her struggles when a singularly frantic tug at his neckcloth choked him. They both laughed, and Darcy competently removed the offending cravat, giving her free reign to assault his neck while he returned to her hair. Her tresses finally unencumbered, Darcy was mesmerized momentarily by the sensation of her dense silky curls entwined in his fingers.
He was snapped back to reality with a gasp at the sublime currents racing up his body as her hands moved under the shirt she had untucked. The sudden intense need to feel her skin rocked him, so his hands moved to her back and attacked the tiny buttons of her gown. The ever proficient and assured Mr. Darcy was at a loss with the tightly clasped and seemingly inexhaustible row of buttons. The urge to grab the neckline in his strong hands and rend it open forcefully was overwhelming.
Thankfully, as Lizzy did not own that many dresses, prompt inspiration dawned and he moved behind her to see better what he was doing. This led to the added revelation and intoxication for them both of tracing warm kisses down her spine as each button was released. Lizzy bemoaned his absence and the emptiness of her hands but was quickly overcome with shivers of pleasure at his lips on her back. The rest of her clothing, all totally unique to him and rather fascinating, came off slowly as he endeavored to educate himself and also because he discovered the increased arousal they both experienced by prolonging the stimulation.
Finally she was naked before him, trembling from desire, as he lightly traced long fingers over the sensitive skin of her back, waist, and buttocks. He had not yet seen her from this angle. She was beautiful and perfect. He kissed her bared flesh, familiarizing himself intimately with every inch of her backside.
He turned her about in his arms and kissed her sweet mouth, savoring her taste, and teasing her lips. “I love you so completely, my Elizabeth, my wife,” he breathed. He gazed into her shining eyes. “You own me, do you know that, my love? I do not exist without you.” He kissed her deeply, letting her feel the extent of the arousal derived solely by his love for her.
He removed his shirt in one swift motion and crushed her to his chest. He abruptly took a step toward the bed, Lizzy in his arms, but their feet tangled on the discarded clothing. They both lost their balance and fell onto the mattress, laughing. Darcy landed on his back, Lizzy sprawled on top of him, one elbow connecting forcefully with his nose. They both laughed hard, Darcy massaging his sore but otherwise undamaged nose.
“William! I am so sorry,” Lizzy apologized, kissing his nose and face and everywhere else, and then proceeding to finish undressing him.
It was a novel experience and more than a little enjoyable. They laughed as they fumbled with the strange clasps and buttons, taking another step along the road of discovery and comfortable unity in their relationship. The end result of their playful exertions was as one would expect.
With colossal effort and regret, they left their bed with barely enough time to make themselves presentable for dinner. Maintaining etiquette and decency throughout the meal bordered on painful. Luckily, the room was empty most of the time so, between bites, they shared a few kisses and squeezes.
The food was delicious. They ate heartily, both ravenous from the energy expended over the past hours. Darcy was mesmerized by his wife, every movement generating ripples of delight through his body. His need to touch her overwhelmed him. Breaking pieces of bread and fruit, he fed her, lingering on her lips and losing all awareness in her sparkling eyes.
“William, your food is growing cold,” she teased, kissing his finger.
He smiled, leaning to nuzzle behind her ear and briefly kissing. “I care not, beloved. Famished I may be, but touching you is preferable. For once your parents are not present to preclude me fulfilling the fantasy of displaying how even the simple act of eating enhances my desire for you.”
Lizzy giggled, fingers covering her mouth. “Oh, William! The vision! I wish you had acted on your impulses then so I could see Mama’s face, if nothing else!”
Darcy laughed, resuming his seat and picking up his fork. “As entertaining as that may have been, Elizabeth, your father would likely have strangled me. Curbing my inclinations was not always easy, but wise. Thankfully I no longer need to do so. Well, within reason, of course.”
After dinner they took a stroll in the silent garden. Darcy talked about Pemberley. The plan was to depart fairly early in the morning since the journey home would take most of the day. Darcy was in a state of uncontrollable bliss that his Lizzy would finally be with him in his home… their home. It was a dream he had harbored in his aching heart for so many months that the reality was incredible. Lizzy was excited and anxious at the same time. With Darcy by her side, his strong arms around her, it was difficult to feel any apprehension. However, she could not completely erase the gnawing doubts of her competence as Mistress of an estate such as Pemberley.
For now though, her emotions were captured by her husband. Her happiness was unlimited and her desire simply to be with him transcended any fears. Before too long they returned to their room, wishing to thoroughly enjoy the last night at this place which would forever be special to them. They made love again, slowly and reverently worshipping each other’s bodies before they fell into a deep, peace-filled sleep. Lizzy ached in muscles and places she had hardly known existed, but her love for this man who had so wholly consumed her soul surpassed any discomfort. They slept entwined, cuddling and warm.