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

Chapter Six Settling in at Pemberley

Elizabeth awoke groggily with the bizarre impression of having lost something. For several minutes she experienced total disorientation. She was in an enormous, strange bed with dark curtains drawn about. She was alone, and the sensation of emptiness and heartache persisted even though she could not immediately identify the cause. She rubbed her heavy eyes and forced them to remain open. Part of her wanted to retreat back into sleep but the other part, the part that felt uneasy, urged her to wake up. She made herself sit up and, as she did so, her gaze fell on the slight depression in the pillow and mattress next to her. Immediately reality crashed over her consciousness. She knew exactly where she was and the fact that she was alone hit her as an almost physical blow.

“William?” she called, her voice louder than she intended and, to her mild shame, bordering on hysteria. How could she feel so bereft after only two days of waking with his body beside her? Why this sense of panic?

She jumped out of the bed, grabbing her nightgown from the floor where, in their haste, it had been tossed. She pulled it on quickly and had her hand on the doorknob before rationality returned to her clouded mind. It certainly would not do for the Mistress of Pemberley to go dashing through the house in her nightgown!

Calm yourself, Elizabeth! Think! Her first thought was that she was quite cold. William’s robe, the one she had worn last night, was lying over the chair so she put it on. Instantly she felt coherency and calmness wash over her. The combination of warmth and her husband’s scent restored her clarity. She realized suddenly and with acute embarrassment that she was being utterly ridiculous. William would not have left her without good reason. All she need do was to ring, and a servant would appear and tell her what was happening.

She inhaled deeply. Looking at the mantel clock, she noted that it was only a little after seven. William must have arisen early. She walked back to the bed and touched the spot where his head had lain. It was cold. She actually felt tears start in her eyes. Really, Lizzy! she chided herself, what would he think to see you acting the lovesick fool!

Then she noticed the note on the bed stand with her name written in his hand. She collapsed onto the end of the bed and picked it up. I truly am a fool. Of course he would leave me a note!

Beloved,

I woke early, as is my usual wont, not that you would necessarily have ascertained this fact based on these past two days! You were sleeping peacefully and absolutely beautifully. I knew I would be unable to resist waking you if I tarried any longer. I wished to check on the new colt. I will not be long. As much as I love my horses, they in no way compare to you, my precious wife. So strong is my desire to kiss you—even as I write this note I am overwhelmed by the need to do so—that my visit to the stables will be brief. I love you so, my darling.

William

She had no sooner finished reading when she heard the faint squeak of the door opening. She bolted up and rushed across the room without pausing to determine if it was he, not that anyone else would be entering their bedchamber. It was Darcy and he had only opened the door enough to peek his head in. His face lit up at seeing her, but she so surprised him that he literally fell against the jamb when she flew into him. He caught her with one arm, the other desperately grabbing at the wall to keep from falling over. He involuntarily grunted and winced when his back made contact with the hard wood.

“Oh, William! I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” She stepped back a pace so he could right himself, her hands on his face.

“No more than a bruise, my love,” he laughed. He shut the door and took her into his arms, kissing her soundly. He reluctantly let go but took her hand and walked over to the chair by the fire. He sat down and began pulling off his boots.

“Let me,” she said, and knelt down in front of him, pushing his hands away and removed his boots.

He leaned back and watched her, a happy smile on his face. She stole a glance up at him, really examining him for the first time, and paused in her task, mouth dropping open.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What in the world are you wearing?” she questioned him in astonishment. Elizabeth would never in a million years have imagined the impeccable Mr. Darcy in such attire. His shirt was of coarse linen discolored from old sweat, open at the neck and without cravat; his breeches were stained with mud and had actual tears in the knees; and his thick coat was threadbare with two buttons missing! Even more incredible to her was how alluring he appeared. The rough clothing, his face unshaven with cheeks flushed from the cold, mussed hair clinging damply to his neck, and the musky smell of horse and earth combined to elicit an odd response from her senses.

He looked down at himself, having totally forgotten what he was wearing in his yearning to see his wife, and blushed scarlet. He stood up quickly. “Forgive me, Elizabeth! I intended to clean up and change,” he spluttered. “I only meant to make sure you were still asleep. Give me a moment…” He turned toward his dressing room, but Elizabeth snatched his hand.

She stood up and placed her hands on his chest. He watched her with a mingled expression of bafflement and mortification. “I did not say I disapproved,” she said softly, “In fact, you are rather fetching. So… rugged and… wild!”

He stared at her, a tiny frown crossing his features. “Are you making fun of me?”

She stepped closer and ran her fingers along his jawbone. “Do I look as though I am teasing you?”

“No,” he swallowed. “However, I do not comprehend how my work clothes would captivate you. I wear these when I train the horses. I am dirty and… unorganized!” She had moved even nearer and was kissing his neck. “Elizabeth, you cannot be serious!” He was aghast.

She spoke softly against his ear, “Did you not tell me that you first knew you loved me when I walked to Netherfield to see Jane? Was I not wild and disheveled? You confessed you found me attractive, sir. How desirable did you find me then?” she inquired with a gentle nibble to his lobe.

“Exceedingly so,” he breathed. He grasped her elbows and pulled back so he could see her face. “So, you are telling me that all this time I only needed to don these garments and I would have driven you mad with longing?” He grinned and arched one brow.

“Perhaps,” she answered pertly, “I guess we shall never know. It is, however, currently having a tremendously positive affect on me.” The ministrations of her hands proved her sincerity. She had untucked his shirt while she spoke and was running her palms up and down his back with ever increasing urgency.

He laughed and shook his head. “I cannot help but visualize all the money I could have saved on clothing if I had only known this fact.” Then he kissed her and willingly surrendered to her wishes. “I am beginning to wonder about you, Mrs. Darcy. First you confess that you enjoyed the forceful lovemaking of two days ago, and now you are driven to heights of passion by the mere appearance of me in my rough attire.”

“You married a country girl, sir. I am enchanted by raw nature and unpretentious adornments. You, my love, are astonishingly alluring and arousing. It is nearly too much incitement for a simple girl like me to withstand.” The truth of her teasing words was quickly proved.

They loved quickly, furiously, and rapturously, not bothering to remove clothing. Darcy collapsed, rolling to the side with Lizzy still held in a snug embrace. She nestled close, burying her face into his shoulder. Darcy was exhausted and, despite lying sideways on the bed half clothed, felt sleep creeping over him. Lizzy rose up on an elbow and smiled as she brushed mussed hair off his sweaty forehead. He smiled back, caressing her cheek gently.

“You can take these off now,” she whispered, tugging on the fabric of his shirt.

He laughed, “Thank you for your permission to do so; however, I now find I do not have the energy to expend on the task.”

“Allow me then,” and she sat up, first addressing the breeches that were bunched absurdly at his knees. She studied him as she worked, not with desire for the moment but with simple delight regarding his figure. “It is amazing, is it not?”

“What is?”

“How our bodies are designed so perfectly for each other. The pleasure we derive from the other’s touch and appearance.” She blushed and would not meet his eyes. “Does it surprise you, William, or… disturb you in any way at how forward I am and… how wanton you make me?”

“Elizabeth, I am so far removed from being disturbed by your desire for me that there is not an adequate word for the emotion. As to being surprised, well, yes I am; however, not in the way you intimate.” She looked at him quizzically, and he smiled. “I am not surprised by your passion, my love. It was your passion that attracted me to you and captivated me. Passion for your family, for your opinions, and for life in total. I always knew you would be a passionate lover. My surprise is that I am the man whom you have gifted with your passion and that I am capable of inciting you so. I am not worthy of it and do not deserve you.”

“You are too harsh in your self-assessment, my love. I may be passionate in the ways you have listed, yet you seem to be alluding to the fact that my ardor could be inspired by anyone, and I can assure you that is not the case.”

He paled at her words. “No, Elizabeth, I did not mean…”

She shushed him and tugged on his hands until he sat up next to her. She undressed him and then removed her own rumpled nightgown. She kissed him thoroughly before pulling back slightly and gazing into his clear eyes. “Now, my heart, I insist you give me what was so cruelly taken from me this morning.”

“What is that?”

“You. In bed naked next to me and holding me so close that we are as one.”

Darcy smiled brightly. “Ah, if only all the demands made of me were so straightforward and gratifying to fulfill.”

Mrs. Darcy’s first complete day as Mistress of Pemberley certainly began wonderfully enough. Darcy seemed in no hurry to leave their bed once he was back in it with his wife now awake. They cuddled and talked for some time until they were both ready for some breakfast. This they took in his sitting room.

Lizzy had only given this room a cursory glance the previous evening, so she took the time to examine it now. Like Darcy’s bedchamber, his sitting room had been decorated in rich colors of forest green and burgundy. Large windows facing to the east offered illumination and a spectacular view of the sunrise. The furnishings were of a lighter wood than in the bedroom. The chairs and sofas were universally soft and comfortable. It was an inviting room; however, she was left with the impression that it was not much used.

“Do you spend much time in this room, William?”

He looked up from his newspaper. “Actually, no.” he answered, gazing around as if puzzled by the fact. He frowned. “I am not really sure why. I have tended to spend most of my time in my study working. When I relax in the evenings, it is either with Georgiana in the music room or parlor, or alone in my bed reading.” He smiled then and caressed his wife’s hand. “Of course now I shall not be alone, and for that I am eternally grateful.”

She smiled back. “Well, I like this room very much.” She turned a serious face to her husband and he put down his paper. “I have been giving this some thought. In regard to our conversation yesterday, I honestly do not see myself using my chambers all that much. I cannot imagine not wanting to be with you awake or asleep.” She flushed slightly and dropped her eyes demurely. Darcy glowed with satisfaction.

“In truth, the only time I can see myself needing to be apart from you is when our babies are born and I will need to be close to the nursery.” The mention of babies caused Darcy’s heart to leap with a jolt of bliss. “As for having my own sitting room, I cannot remotely imagine the need. You told me once that your mother had a private parlor for when she entertained her lady friends. Were you referring to her sitting room way up here?”

“No. Her parlor is on the second floor, across from my study. It is mostly unused now and I had intended on showing it to you today. It is yours to do with as you wish.”

Lizzy nodded. “This is what I propose. The parlor is appreciated and I can envision myself needing it from time to time. When Jane visits or Georgiana and I wish to engage in private talk.” She smiled mischievously. “The bedchamber, I would like to redecorate, although there is no need to rush into it nor will I alter much since it will be used so rarely. As for the sitting room, we can ignore it. No point in expending time and money on a room that will sit there unoccupied.”

“Elizabeth, you know that the expense is not an issue.”

“William, please. I appreciate that it is not as far as you are concerned. However, I cannot simply change the way I am, nor do I wish to. Perhaps in time I will accustom myself to my new station in life, but be patient with me.”

Darcy leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Forgive me, dearest. Naturally I want you to be comfortable here and to make choices that will ease your transition. I’ll tell you what, when the decorator arrives next week, you and he can sit down and plan together. Whatever you wish to do is fine with me.”

Lizzy laughed. “Really William, you are far too trusting! What if I decide to choose Scottish plaids or Oriental motifs?”

He cringed, “Point taken. Very well then, we shall meet with the decorator. Do you have any opinions on these rooms?” He swept his hand around the sitting room and toward the bedchamber.

“As I told you last night, the bedchamber is perfect. Truly. You and I appear to have similar tastes. I do not wish to change anything, although I would like to see about purchasing an overly large bearskin rug and big fluffy pillows,” she said with a suggestive smirk and risqué giggle. He grinned.

She continued, “The sitting room is lovely. What do you think about us using it more often? We can be casual here whereas we cannot if we are downstairs. We could each have a small desk here, perhaps a couple of bookcases for easy access to our favorite books. Oh, and how about a sideboard for our breakfasts? I so enjoy this time in the morning with you.”

“Those are excellent suggestions, my love. Consider it done.”

“One other request. I wish to have the landscape hung in here. We must share the joy in the reminder of the day we finally declared our love.”

He grasped her hands and pulled her onto his lap, holding her tightly. “Agreed.” He commenced lavishing her neck and shoulders with kisses and Lizzy sighed with satisfaction.

It was midmorning before they left their chambers. Lizzy had expressed concern that the servants would think ill of her for languishing in their rooms half the day, but Darcy just laughed. “The servants are doubtless consumed with their daily tasks and are giving no thought to our whereabouts. If they are, well, it is our honeymoon so they will understand.” Lizzy blushed profusely, which made Darcy laugh even harder.

First he sought out Mrs. Reynolds, asking her to arrange for Mrs. Darcy to meet the rest of the staff whenever it was convenient. In the meantime, he told her, they would be touring the rooms on the second floor.

Between Lizzy’s brief visit in September and Darcy’s continual sharing with her over the past two months, she had a fair grasp of how the manor was designed. Architecturally the house was English baroque, built in the early 1600s over twenty years as an extensive addition to the original house erected a hundred years earlier. That earlier home of the Darcys was now the northern annex, renovated to include the conservatory, grand ballroom, game rooms, and formal dining room on the lower level, and guest quarters above.

The newer mansion was a perfect square with an inner courtyard of cobbled stone in the precise center. Facing in every direction of the compass, each wing offered astounding views of the breathtaking scenery. The entire structure sat on a gentle slope, giving a slightly uneven appearance from a distance. The main entrance, with four ionic columns supporting a generous porch, faced west with the River Derwent yards away past a walled garden and grassy sheep-dotted expanse.

Due to the slope, this side of the house appeared taller with the ground or basement level completely visible. The columned portico with massive double doors opening into the grand foyer with elaborately painted ceiling, ornate carvings, and marble flooring was actually on the ground level, the foyer vaulting a full two stories. The wide stairway led to the main level where the family rooms are located; the ground floor beyond the foyer was exclusively servants’ quarters, kitchen and storage, wine cellar, and the like.

On the main level, or first storey, were the library, Darcy’s study, several parlors, the music room, sculpture gallery, and guest quarters, among numerous other rooms. Lizzy and her aunt and uncle toured parts of this level during their visit. It would be weeks before Lizzy fully realized how few of the rooms she had actually seen, because the manor was so massive.

The entire third floor was bedchambers. The Master and Mistress’s suite covered the whole south-facing wing, Darcy’s bedchamber in the southeast corner. This location was ideal, providing a stunning view from numerous windows and a large southern balcony of the vast lawns, gardens, ponds, fountains, and the forest to the hilly east, as well as bathing the chamber with the sunrise and capturing woodland-scented breezes.

For the day’s tour, they started in the library. Lizzy had seen it before, in September, and had been quite impressed. The room was enormous with ceiling-to-floor bookcases, almost all filled. Tall ladders on rollers allowed one to reach the highest shelves. Darcy explained how the volumes were organized, each case having a letter designation. He showed her the system of cards in a cabinet that cataloged the books and directed where to find each one. She had never heard of such a technique and found it fascinating. Several chairs and sofas with tables and lamps graced the room. The windows were tall and wide, as all the windows were at Pemberley, allowing incredible views in all directions and blazes of sunlight. She could not help but picture her father in this room and said as much to Darcy.

“Yes,” he said. “I deem your father will set one foot in here, and we shall not see him for the length of his visit! It was probably the lure of Pemberley’s library which principally swayed him to accept my proposal for your hand.”

Lizzy laughed. “Well, that and the fact that I would undoubtedly have run off with you anyway if he had not consented.”

She spoke teasingly and absently, but her words struck Darcy and he lightly grasped her chin turning her toward him. “Would you have, Lizzy?” he asked huskily. “Run away with me, I mean.”

“Oh! I… Well, it never came to that did it, William? Yet now that I think about it, I remember how worried I was when you took so long in his study. I knew it was silly, that my father would never purposely refuse you, knowing how much I loved you… But then he did not know I loved you yet.” She shook her head. “It is all such a jumble, really. I do know that I had to be with you, would die if I could not be. So, yes, I would have run away with you if he had refused. I would have had no choice.” She smiled up at her husband and he kissed her, saying nothing.

She cocked her head to the side and began playing with the buttons on his jacket. “So, tell me, Mr. Darcy, which category do I look under for the special books in Pemberley’s library?”

He flushed and swallowed audibly. “Those books are kept in my private collection in the study, under lock and key.”

“Shall I be entrusted with a key to this cabinet?” She fluttered her lashes coquettishly.

“I shall contemplate the request, Mrs. Darcy. You are dangerous enough as it is without adding further fuel to the fire!”

Next he led her to the music room. An older pianoforte sat here alongside an enormous gilded harp. A glass case housed a collection of unusual instruments. Darcy explained that many of them were ethnic musical apparatus picked up from other countries over the centuries. Propped in one corner were a beautiful cello and a violin. Lizzy asked who played them.

“Richard plays the cello and is quite talented actually. He and Georgiana have several pieces they play together beautifully. I play the violin, but not very well. Never one to practice,” he said in a perfect imitation of his aunt. “My mother insisted I study music but I could never control my clumsy fingers to even pound out my scales on the piano, so she gave up. I had limited success with the violin.”

“I would love to hear you play.”

Darcy laughed, “No, my love, you truly would not, trust me! Perhaps some evening when I have indulged in far too many brandies.” He took her hand and led her to the northern wing. They visited the conservatory and game rooms, and then he led her into the formal dining room.

Elizabeth had never imagined a single room could be so huge. A massive, sheet-draped table in the shape of a “U” filled the space. Darcy told her it could comfortably seat one hundred-fifty people. Lizzy was stunned. The room was beautiful and elegant, as all the rooms were, but there was an emptiness to it, an atmosphere of long disuse with dust thick in some areas.

“We have not opened this room since my mother died,” he remarked softly. “She loved to entertain. Here at Pemberley, that is. She did not care for Town. Twice a year, at Christmas and on the first day of summer, we hosted a feast for the tenants and community. Additional tables would be placed in the ballroom. It was a tradition for generations and quite the party, let me tell you! Christmas carols in the winter and music and dancing on the terrace in the summer.” He smiled and his eyes were far away with the memory.

“Traditions must be adhered to,” Lizzy declared briskly. “This Christmas is too soon for me to prepare a party, but by summer I will have figured my way around. We can arrange for it then, do you agree, my love?”

Darcy was smiling broadly. “Mistress of Pemberley indeed.” He placed his arm across her shoulders, drew her close to his side, kissed the top of her head, and then steered toward the next room. Lizzy quickly became lost in the long hallways and vast rooms, all of which had several doorways tucked into draped alcoves leading to more rooms. Eventually she would learn that Darcy spoke the truth: Pemberley was patterned in a clear square and hallways that seemed initially to dissect randomly did, in fact, follow a predictable scheme. However, this would take time and she was abundantly thankful he intended to stay close to her. He diverted from the sculpture gallery and portrait hall for now, stating that it would take too much time to fully appreciate.

They encountered Mrs. Reynolds as they entered the main parlor. She curtseyed and addressed them both formally, “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, the staff will be assembled in the ballroom in one half hour. After which, luncheon will be served. Does this meet with your approval?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. That will be fine.”

Lizzy strolled around the room, fondly remembering the miraculous days in early September when she surprised Mr. Darcy and his sister and then enjoyed luncheon and a glorious afternoon in their company. Observing him in his home had released her heart wholly. She vividly recalled sitting here transfixed by his peaceful face and demeanor and realizing that she loved him. Georgiana had played several tunes on her new pianoforte, Lizzy lifting her voice a time or two, while Darcy gazed at her with a tender expression. Naturally it had all worked out, but Lizzy could not help wondering how differently things might have transpired if only they had known the truth of the emotions behind their barely regulated features.

Now he was pointing out features and furnishings, sharing with her the memories attached. His parents had enjoyed having their children with them in the evenings, he told her, and they had generally relaxed here. He and Georgiana naturally gravitated to this parlor as well. The mixture of his childhood memories, the yearlong unrelenting daydreams of Elizabeth here with their children running about their feet, and now the reality that she was his wife bathed him in contentment.

“My father would read a book or newspaper in that chair,” he pointed. “My mother would sit in the one alongside it, sewing or reading or singing to Georgiana in her lap. I was usually reading as well. Still do, actually, or I listen to Georgiana read to me. She has a sweet voice.”

“Do you sit in his chair?” Lizzy inquired, studying his luminous face.

“No, I prefer the sofa. More comfortable and I can stretch further. I am taller than my father was, so my legs get cramped by the table in front. Suppose I could simply rearrange the furniture; however, I am a creature of habit so things have remained unchanged.” He smiled brightly. “Probably could use some shaking up around here, Elizabeth, so indulge yourself.”

“I was reflecting on the prospect of how stimulating it will be sitting by your side, touching you on the sofa, so I believe I shall keep the table as it is,” she responded with a little laugh. She had moved to the far window as he had been talking and created an angelic vision with the sun shining on her. She was leaning against the wall, so still and calm, watching him. She was enchanting and Darcy was fascinated anew by the mere presence of her. He dazedly observed her for a spell and then found his feet drawn toward her as a moth to the flame.

She looked up at him, caressed his cheek, and smiled. “I love you, Fitzwilliam,” she purred, her features awash with love. She rarely used his full name, treasuring it for the most intimate of moments, and her tone was intensely seductive and vibrant when she did. Hearing her call him so here, now, nearly brought him to his knees. He embraced her, nestling his face in her neck, moaning her name with desire and need. In a fluid motion he sat on the window seat, drawing her onto his lap.

He wondered if she grasped how vital she was to him, and whether she recognized that after all of the trials of the last year, the separations, the misunderstandings, the long waiting, and the gnawing urgency he had felt for her, these moments in her arms were like oxygen to a drowning man. He whispered her name over and over as he gently kissed her neck and shoulders. His torrid hunger for her was as powerful as ever, yet his desire to simply hold her was stronger.

Elizabeth ran her fingers through his hair and along the edge of his collar. She knew they probably should not be in this position outside their bedchamber, but she did not care. Being back in this room had evoked clear memories of her wonderful day here with him but also of the horrible separation afterwards. Those awful weeks of not knowing if he still loved her or if she would ever see him again, musings that seemed pointless in the face of Lydia’s scandal. She shuddered anew at the pain and despair she had experienced.

Darcy felt her trembling and pulled back. “What is it, my heart?”

She kissed him. “Awful memories of how close I came to losing you. I do not think I could have lived if you had not come back to me, William,” she said with a small sob.

“Shhhh…” he soothed, kissing her teary cheeks. “Let it go, Elizabeth. It is history. We are one now and will be forever. I refuse to allow this time to be clouded by the foolishness of the past.” His wits restored somewhat, he bestowed a soft but lingering kiss before rising from the seat. He hugged her tight and then released her. He smiled gaily and reminded her they had an appointment to keep.

He offered an arm, “Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?”

She smiled bravely and placed her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Lead the way, Mr. Darcy.”

As they walked down another long hallway she had yet not discovered, she inquired, “How many people does it take to keep Pemberley operating?”

He seemed puzzled by the question. “I am not sure the exact number. As many as is needed to get the jobs done.”

Lizzy smiled inwardly. To him, who grew up surrounded by innumerable servants, the question would seem ludicrous.

The ballroom near the formal dining room was so mammoth that it dwarfed the latter chamber. Lizzy speculated that all of Longbourn could fit into this one room, and she would not have been far off. Details of the elegant room were ignored for now, however, as her eyes were drawn to the array of people in front of her. They were separated, accidentally or on purpose she did not know, into small clusters, rigidly at attention and wearing pristine uniforms. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Taylor, the butler, stood formally in front. In unison, everyone in the room bowed or curtseyed. The perfection of it stunned Lizzy.

Mrs. Reynolds stepped forward. “The staff awaits your inspection, Mr. Darcy.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

Lizzy felt the urge to laugh. It was all so stiff and slightly ridiculous to her. One glance at her husband’s visage, though, and she reconsidered. This was his world. Here he was the Master. In the weeks of their engagement, she had seen only her “William.” He talked about his home and his duties frequently, to the point where she understood much of what life at Pemberley must be like. During that time, the stern, commanding presence of “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley” had faded, and she had forgotten that side of him. In all honesty, she had never actually seen that side of him.

She saw it now and experienced a surge of pride. What she had originally deemed haughty arrogance was in reality nobility, authority, power, and superior confidence. Here was a man utterly assured of his place in life and his responsibilities. He gave orders and expected them to be carried out without question.

With sudden insight she put all the pieces together. How a man of enormous capabilities, absolute command, and control over such vast properties and lives could be laid low by consuming love for a woman he thought he could not have. How this vulnerability and helplessness would engulf and stagger him. Perhaps to a degree he had needed to be humbled, yet all Lizzy could feel now was fresh pain and thankfulness that he would suffer no more.

She decided immediately that there was no possible way she would remember all their names, so she did not try. There was the kitchen staff, commanded by the iron fist of Mrs. Langton. The footmen, under the authority of Mr. Taylor. The household staff consisted of a dozen maids and numerous helpers and answered to Mrs. Reynolds. The outside staff, gardeners and maintenance men, led by the head groundskeeper, a Mr. Clark. Marguerite, Samuel, and Mr. Keith stood off to the side as they were under the direct and only command of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Darcy explained to Elizabeth that the grooms and stable boys would be introduced later at the stables. She maintained her composure, but was inwardly overawed and suddenly understood how her husband could not possibly know the precise number of staff.

Afterwards they retired to the smaller dining room, the “breakfast room” as Darcy called it. Lizzy was feeling more than a little overwhelmed, so she was thankful for the reprieve. As soon as they were served, the servants exited and shut the doors firmly behind them. They had done the same at dinner last night and it mystified her.

“Do the servants always leave?” she inquired. “At Longbourn they remain in case we need something.”

Darcy reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for an intoxicating kiss to each of her knuckles before tenderly sucking the tip of each finger. “If they remained, I would not be able to do this,” he declared with a mischievous grin and a smoldering gaze. Lizzy was instantly breathless and weak. How was it that his eyes on her and one touch of his lips could arouse her so?

Before she lost all restraint, not that she was necessarily averse to the idea, she flippantly retorted, “Am I to understand that the Master’s commands include keeping me sequestered behind closed doors to be at his disposal?”

He continued to ravage her hand, now having progressed to the sensitive flesh of her palm and inner wrist. “I warned you, Madame, did I not? I desire unfettered access. You should be grateful I permitted you out of our chambers at all today.” His exploring mouth was sending shivers of excitement coursing through her body.

“Does the Master’s absolute control extend to me?” she stammered, finding it extremely difficult to speak.

“Your vows included the promise to obey, my love.” He wormed one finger under her sleeve, pushing it up to her elbow with his lips following. “Do my requirements perturb you, beloved? I would never wish to force unpleasantness upon you,” he said with a playful nibble to her inner elbow.

“William!” she pleaded, her voice a husky whisper.

He smiled with satisfaction. “Are you begging me to stop, dearest wife, or to carry on?”

“I…” The truth was she wanted desperately for him to have his way with her right then, but she could not bring herself to say it. She felt his smile on her skin, and then with one last kiss, he released her arm, gently returning the hand to her lap. Their eyes met, his full of passion and a hint of amusement, hers glazed with forlorn yearning.

“Eat your food, Elizabeth. You will need your strength as I intend to carry you to our bed the second we are finished.” And he did exactly that.