My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey into Love Everlasting

Chapter Two A Game of Riddles

Samuel Oliver and Marguerite Charbonneau were joined in Holy Matrimony on September the third in the intimate Pemberley Chapel. The groom wore a fine suit of black, dashing and elegant despite the blush upon his cheeks and trembling hands. He was attended by a livery-garbed, wigged, and smiling Phillips, yet leaning on a crutch and pale. The bride was resplendent in a white taffeta gown, her golden hair for once not in a severe knot but stunningly curled and piled atop her delicate head. She was attended by her sister Dominique, a lady's maid at the inn in Matlock where Marguerite had once been employed, wearing a lacy gown of rose organdy. Aside from a few bouquets of late summer flowers and ribbons upon the pews, the chapel was left unadorned, its natural beauty and reverent essence shining brighter than any decoration would have.

Reverend Bertram, dressed in his finest vestments, performed the traditional ceremony. Marguerite was baptized a Catholic, as were most French, but religion had not played a large part in her life. Therefore, she had readily embraced the Anglican views and had met with Reverend Bertram several times to familiarize herself with Samuel's chosen faith. Essentially it was the blessing of God that was of vital importance to both of them. The entire household staff, a handful of outside staff, a few other friends from the community, and Samuel's father, a butler at Yeldersley Hall near Ashbourne, were present to witness the union. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy sat in the front pew, adding their blessings to the solemn event.

All plans had proceeded as initially outlined a month ago. Darcy arranged for a coach to transport the newlyweds to Windermere, where they would holiday for two weeks. Samuel was consulted on all arrangements but offered little in the way of feedback, generally far too uncomfortable merely by being in his Master's study to even consider carrying on a collaborative conversation. Lizzy had better luck with Marguerite, although her involvement was minimal, primarily allowing her maid to do whatever she wished in regards to the wedding. Therefore, like most women throughout the ages, Marguerite and her bridesmaid organized the bulk of the ceremony's provisions, Samuel essentially required to simply show up at the appointed time.

Mrs. Langton and Mrs. Reynolds hosted a reception in the staff quarters with feasting and merriment. The Master and Mistress extended their heartfelt congratulations to the blushing groom and radiant bride, departing to the Manor and allowing the couple to celebrate at leisure with their friends. The Olivers would spend their wedding night in their new apartment on the Pemberley lower level, Samuel's mortification far too profound for Darcy to more than hint about providing a place of greater privacy.

Lizzy and Darcy ate a light repast in the dining room, the muted sounds of revelry drifting from below, and then retired to their sitting room for the remainder of the night. Of course, this was not unusual, but tonight they would essentially be on their own as the entire staff was likely to be occupied toasting the new couple for many hours to come. Despite Samuel's fretting to the contrary, Darcy managed perfectly well with performing his personal toilette and with only his wife to assist him in undressing. Lizzy, too, was quite capable and since they both actually rather enjoyed caring for each other, not having their individual servants attend them was not an uncommon occurrence. For the two-day interim before they departed to Yarmouth, Darcy would be served by Willis, a manservant from the Osprey Inn in Brawley, and Lizzy would be assisted by Marla, one of the maids. Darcy was still not sure whether Samuel was relieved to have his Master cared for or appalled at the concept of a strange servant handling Mr. Darcy's personal effects! Whatever the case, the Darcys released a huge sigh of relief to have their servants safely wed and on their way, the organizing frankly frequently annoying with Samuel blushing and stammering incessantly.

The fourth of September dawned brightly, Lizzy reaching sleepily for her husband only to find his space vacant and cool. He had not specifically mentioned leaving early for a ride or other duty, not that he necessarily was required to do so, but he generally did. Normally this desertion would have caused no dismay or perplexity; today, however, Lizzy was shocked to find him absent. Darcy had made no reference of a specially planned celebration for this day, but Lizzy had anticipated something, even if only a romantic morning interlude. Well aware of how sentimental her spouse was, Lizzy's expectancy had grown and her first waking emotion was crushing disappointment.

“I told you not to spoil me so, William,” she murmured to the empty air. “You have set the standard impossibly high.” She sighed, further chastising herself for being so foolishly saddened when overall he was far and away the best man on earth. The baby suffered no such sense of disillusionment, jumping about on her bladder and demanding nourishment posthaste as usual.

Crossing the threshold to her dressing room moments later, Lizzy's emotions were again assaulted, only now with soaring amazement and glee. Hanging on a hook placed above her vanity was the very dress that she had worn one year ago today when first setting eyes on Pemberley while visiting with her aunt and uncle. Laughing joyously, she reached tremulous hands to unpin the note secured to the bodice.

My dearest wife,

Surely you did not honestly believe that I would allow this gown to be discarded? My foolish, beautiful Lizzy! If I knew of a way to have it preserved forever, I would. Madame du Loire has altered it to fit your current shape. If I may be so bold as to insist you don this garment, for me?

I pray you entertained no doubts that I would revere this day, beloved. How could I not exalt the day my heart began to beat again? For certain you know where I currently wait, breathlessly anticipating beholding your beautiful face as I did precisely 365 days ago, with the same yearning desire unabated. Only today I shall kiss you as I urgently ached to do then.

Of course, I can never express my love for you simply, so I am sending you on a quest. Solve the riddle and follow the trail for the prizes earned. I shall await you at the end, my unfailing love your ultimate reward. Hurry, my heart!

Always yours,William

Mrs. Darcy, my pearl

~ kisses by moonlight and starlight

~ coming home never so sweet

~ cold of stone and air eradicated by ignited hearts and lips

~ the flame of a torch dim compared

Lizzy smiled, instantly solving the riddle. Dashing through the time-consuming routines, she nonetheless freshened carefully with a splash of jasmine and gloss to her lips. The dress, supposedly disposed of months ago as no longer appropriate nor wearable, fit perfectly. The bodice seams were let out and altered with a lace insert to provide space for an ample bosom, the appearance mildly different but lovely with the creamy tops of her breasts displayed. The skirt was already adequately gathered and full, no adjustment needed to accommodate the swell of their child. She pinned her hair up in a loose bun as she had worn it then, with wisps of hair framing her face.

After a last inspection and pinch to her cheeks, Lizzy hastened to the balcony. Lying upon the bench where passionate kisses commenced on Lizzy's first night at Pemberley as Mrs. Darcy was a single red rose and folded piece of parchment. Attached to the rose's stem with a slim white ribbon was a velvet pouch holding two lustrous pearls.

Illusionary clouds and sky

~ horses run fruitlessly

~ familial chimes to count through the ages

~ a head in miniature lies abed

~ swaying rhythms under the power of love

Giggling like a child herself, Lizzy ran to the nursery. The room was sunny and cheery. As always when she entered this room, Lizzy paused on the doorstep, marveling at the joy which permeated her soul. Resting her palms over her belly, she gazed about the chamber, eyes alighting on each precious item.

The decorating was complete and the Darcys were delighted with the outcome. The entire wall opposite the three tall windows facing east was painted with an elaborate pasture scene. All in pastels, the scene was illusionary, as Darcy stated in his riddle, yet so incredibly detailed that one expected the pale green grass to smell and the brook of periwinkle to babble and pink sheep to bleat. Horses of white and grey grazed and ran amongst the sheep and multihued flowers. The lacy blue and yellow curtains Lizzy had sewn hung from rods of polished oak, falling in soft waves to brush the hardwood floor. Several plush rugs dotted the floor, spaced at careful intervals to mute heavy footsteps that might disturb a sleeping infant. The newly installed, modern Franklin stove waited to be lit, freshly laid marble tiles reflecting the gleaming metal. An enormous dresser with padded top sat against the right wall, the door to Mrs. Hanford's chambers to one side and the door to the small closet on the other. To the left, as in Lizzy's dream, stood the cradle and cushioned rocking chair. Above the cradle hung the cuckoo clock gifted on her birthday, pendulum swinging and ticking faintly. Darcy had refinished the rocking chair, it now glinting from where it sat beside the white satin and lace-draped cradle. Inside, resting on the tiny pillow was another red rose, pearls nestled in a sack.

Constellations touchable

~ define the gods immortalized therein

~ paint your own designs, if you dare

~ passion flares beside tubes of metal

~ seeking eyes meet seeking hands

Blushing and laughing, Lizzy left the nursery, traveling down the long top-floor corridor to an empty chamber on the opposite side of the manor. Here, on the covered balcony, Darcy kept his telescope. It was a frequent game, especially during the long winter months, to pad silently in half-dressed states and gaze at the stars when visible on clear nights. Darcy instructed, Lizzy absorbing his knowledge, but ultimately losing the patterns in the jumble of heavenly bodies. She realized that she simply did not have the eye to discern the varied configurations, so would teasingly create her own. Initially Darcy had found this irritating, but over time he accepted it and enjoyed the humor of the situations. He reasoned that although his wife did not share his affinity for astronomy, she did adore stargazing in general, and as they possessed a plethora of common interests, one or two divergent ones made no difference. Besides, the lure of starlight and close proximity as he assisted her education inevitably led to far preferable amusements, often their lovemaking blissfully transpiring on the balcony's chaise. This is where Lizzy now found the third rose, pouch of two pearls, and next riddle.

Military might slumbers

~ relative humor questionable

~ amusement and faithfulness assured

~ matrimony avoided, any ideas?

~ effervescent strength

Under the watchful eye of a rigidly poised Watson, she sedately walked down the stairs to the main floor's residence wing to the last door on the west passageway: Richard's chambers. The first time Lizzy had ever entered these rooms was during her beginning weeks at Pemberley, on one of those days when Darcy was busy with Mr. Keith so she utilized the time to wander about, learning her way. The vast percentage of Pemberley's guest chambers had a long disused quality to them readily discernible. This room, unknown as Col. Fitzwilliam's, had instantly struck her differently. She discovered later that Richard was a frequent visitor, actually residing more often here than at his ancestral home, Rivallain, and the mark of his ebullient presence seemed to have seeped into the very walls.

The rose lay serenely at the foot of the bed. Two more perfect pearls added to the others in her pocket.

Hall of living stone

~ sightless eyes bore into your soul, loving you eternally

~ loneliness allayed forevermore

~ my beloved in perpetuity

Lizzy's heart leapt. She rushed from the room, slowing under the vigilant gaze of Watson, undoubtedly planted there to ensure her caution. She smiled at him brilliantly, dropping a curtsy. The footman bowed, his lips lifting slightly. At the corner she glanced behind, Watson's eyes upon her, and waved airily with a tinkling laugh before launching into a brisk sprint to the sculpture gallery.

Darcy's bust was the obvious answer to the puzzle, although the last phrase was unclear. Her beloved was in perpetuity, but Darcy was writing the riddle and referring to her. She had a guess as to the solution and rounding the corner gasped nonetheless when she found she was correct. While in London, Darcy had taken Mrs. Lathrop's suggestion to heart and Lizzy spent a few hours sitting for a sculptor. Darcy had made no further mention of her bust, Lizzy choosing to let the matter lie, knowing that he would prefer to surprise her in some manner.

Well, he had succeeded. Her likeness etched in cold white marble sat on a pedestal beside her husband's. Every detail flawless, her tender smile and glowing happiness magically captured. As when she gazed upon his bust, or any of the other amazing statues in the gallery, Lizzy was awed by the art form. She had blushed and mildly resisted having a bust made, but now that it was here beside her husband in this place where it would sit for generations untold, Lizzy could only feel deep pride. She paused a moment more, as she could never refrain from doing, and stroked his luminous cheek.

“I love you, William,” she whispered with a smile, retrieving the rose, pearls, and note lying on a tiny table near the pedestals.

Prose and poetry

~ classic and contemporary

~ silent contemplation amongst the dust

~ romance amid the historical

~ favored master retreat

No hesitation as she pivoted toward the far door and short corridor leading to the library. His clues were obvious, but the room was gigantic, offering any number of places to place a rose. She rather thought his chair a logical place, but was unsure based on the allusion to romance, which could easily refer to the time they made love between the shelves of history texts. Of course, they had made love several times in the library, she recalled with a blush and heavenly sigh, so he was likely being general.

She was correct in her initial assumption. The rose, pearls, and paper lay on his massive leather chair. Lizzy's stomach released a loud growl, tremulous hands reminding her that she had eaten nothing yet this morning. As delightful as his little game was, she sincerely hoped this was the last as she was famished. Alas, not yet.

A precious presence seen

~ heart awakens as eyes lock

~ a dream?

~ a delusion?

~ or the beginning of life lived abundantly and completely?

“The latter, my heart, the latter,” she murmured, kissing the folded parchment. Fourteen pearls now weighted her pocket and her hands were encumbered with parchment and roses as Lizzy headed toward the terrace.

Memories flooded her as she hurriedly walked through the now familiar rooms toward the southern exit. Vivid recollections of her surprise encounter of Mr. Darcy a year ago with the subsequent invitation to his home.

First, the music room where visions of being introduced to his beloved sister Georgiana and hearing her play while a proud and relaxed Mr. Darcy smiled and laughed. Ah, his laughter! Such an amazing sound and sight that she had never witnessed from the stoic man of Hertfordshire and Kent. It had pierced her soul, Lizzy noting how beautiful he was, how carefree and joyous. “You should always smile, Mr. Darcy,” she had thought with emotions overwhelming, her spirit lurching at his evident happiness and then plummeting in the sadness of knowing he would never smile so for her.

Next into Darcy's study and out a side door to the wide corridor beyond. She passed through the vaulted archway to the broad stone terrace and was halfway down the stairs before she noted that Darcy was nowhere to be seen. She slowed, heart racing, and calmly crossed the stones toward the small table set for breakfast precisely on the spot where she had nervously attempted a bumbling conversation with Mr. Darcy all those months ago.

The round table was covered with a fine green linen tablecloth, an empty vase of Waterford crystal in the center, a china pot of tea, plate of sliced fruits, and two formal settings. Lizzy glanced around, fully expecting her husband to materialize from behind a potted bush or the lawn beyond, not that it is easy to hide a frame his size. She placed the roses into the vase, noting then the folded parchment propped against the glass.

Beloved,

A year ago today the road to my rebirth began. The interrupted journey of our destiny as one was resumed. Paths trod are frequently rend with hazards and washed away areas, but the wise pilgrim presses on and picks up the trail inerrantly. By the grace of God such are we, my wife. Fate shone and brought you literally to my doorstep. Never will I doubt the hand of the Almighty on our life and will forever be thankful for the mercy shown me. The quest, both the one that brought you to me then and that brought you to this note, are over.

I love you,

William

She released a breathy laugh, whirling about seconds later at the unmistakable sound of boot heels striking stone. Darcy was rapidly descending the stairs, dressed in the exact outfit worn a year ago from boots to cravat, only rather than an expression of stunned befuddlement and nervousness, his countenance was radiant with broad smile and glittering eyes.

Lizzy could only stare, an odd sense of déjà vu overlaid by vaulting ecstasy and love. How he stole her very breath away! His dimples flashed, teeth sparkled, eyes reflected the azure blue of the sky, and entire body exuded strength and energy. Purposefully he strode toward her, gaze never faltering, not pausing or slowing until a mere inch from her body. Without preamble he encircled her waist with one arm, pulling her into his chest while clasping her neck gently with his hand, leaning for a consuming kiss.

Lizzy moaned, hunger forgotten in the haze of instant passion as her hands slipped over his shoulders and twined into his hair. Darcy growled in his throat, kissing with ever increasing fervor, slow to be restored to anything remotely resembling rationality. Gradually the feverish kiss abated, Darcy brushing lightly over her lips, withdrawing to rest his forehead on hers with eyes closed in rapture and sighing heavily.

“Oh God, Elizabeth, I have been waiting for hours it seems with a rising need to kiss you! Whose foolish idea was it to send you scurrying about the house rather than running into my arms?”

Lizzy laughed shakily. “I shall not answer that question, love.” She rose on tiptoes, nestling her cheek against his. “Mmmm, William, you smell delicious. Promise me something?”

“Anything, dearest.”

“Always hold me securely when you plan to kiss me so marvelously so that I do not collapse into a heap at your feet?”

He laughed, kissing briefly before stepping back a pace. He caressed over her cheek, speaking softly, “You must be famished, my darling. I thought it might be nice to breakfast in style for a change. Sit and have some tea and fruit. I shall inform the kitchen we are ready to dine.” He pushed her chair in, kissing the top of her head before disappearing into the house.

Lizzy did pour a much needed cup of tea and nibbled on a prune while she waited. It was not for long, Darcy briskly returning followed by Mr. Taylor and three maids, all laden with trays placed onto a small linen-draped sidebar. Lizzy was starving but found it hard to focus on food with her husband staring at her with fiery intensity from his seat mere inches away.

In due time the first course was set and the servants departed, the butler to loiter inside the doorway awaiting summons from his Master. For Darcy the interval of attendance was an agony of forced propriety when he wanted nothing as much as to touch his wife, a mission promptly executed the second they were alone. He leaned forward, lips gliding over her neck while he clasped one hand tightly and gently massaged over the bulge of their child with the other.

“Thank you for wearing the gown.” His voice was husky and muffled against her skin, Lizzy shivering from the combined sensations. “I adore all your old gowns as they each spark such delightful memories, but this is my favorite.” He lifted to kiss her lips. “Sweet. Delectable. I love you so, Elizabeth.” He gazed into her eyes with pure adoration, Lizzy's eyes misty from the emotions elicited. “Do you know how often I dreamt of you in this gown?”

She smiled, running her fingertips over his face. “Apparently the answer is many times. How often, dear love, were you removing said gown in your dreams?”

He chuckled, unperturbed by the query. “Hundreds, although often I was at this spot in broad daylight articulating brilliantly all the proper phrases which should have occurred to me a year ago, and then I would kiss you precisely as I did a moment ago. So, dreams do come true.” He kissed her again, deeply, clearly insatiable with the need to taste her entire mouth. A rumble from the vicinity vaguely under his hand erupted, Lizzy blushing but Darcy laughing. “I am keeping you from your nourishment, forgive me.” He withdrew with a final pat to her womb. “Forgive me, my son, but your mother is irresistible.” The baby answered with a well-aimed kick to his father's palm, Darcy's eyebrow arching in surprise. “My! Feisty, like his mother.”

Laughing, they attended to their plates, Darcy likely hungrier than Lizzy, having been up for hours arranging his surprise with barely a few sips of coffee taken. Vastly differing from the afternoon being commemorated, they conversed easily about all manner of subjects, their clothing being the only similarity.

“William, your clever treasure hunt was inspired. How do you invent so many wonderful adventures?”

“Impressed, Mrs. Darcy, by the ingenious schemes from your admittedly dull-witted spouse?” he asked with a grin.

“You declared it, not I,” she said with a smirk. “Yes, I am impressed, and delighted. I had a wonderful time, although I shall confess to being thankful the quest complete as your son was demanding food and I was aching to see your face.” She reached across to caress his cheek, Darcy snatching her hand for a tender kiss to the wrist. “Thank you for the pearls. They are beautiful. Do you have a specific thought as to what I should do with them?”

He shrugged. “I had imagined a bracelet to accent your necklace. However, you may choose anything you wish. They were part of a shipment on one of my ships, gemstones and pearls from the Orient. My ears perked up, so to speak, when I read the cargo manifest. I acquired a pouch of diamonds and emeralds as well, if you want them to accompany the pearls. They would combine to create a beautiful broach or hair clip. They were a fortuitous parcel as I honestly did not have a planned gift for this day.”

“Really? Perhaps my initial impression when I awoke was not far from the truth.” She spoke teasingly with a caress to his hand.

He arched a brow in question. “What was your initial impression?”

Lizzy reddened slightly. “Well, I confess I was disappointed to find you absent. You have spoiled me, beloved, even further after today. I anticipated at the very least arising to have you staring at me and caressing with obvious intent. I hoped for that, I should say. Anything else would have been a bonus.” She fluttered her lashes and he burst out laughing. “Therefore, when you were not in our bed I was crushed. I thought you had forgotten,” she finished in a small voice.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered roughly, grasping her hand, “how could you think I would forget one of the happiest days of my life? The pearls were an afterthought, but I have been laying plans and composing riddles for a week. You know how pathetically maudlin I am, thus you should never be surprised overly nor despondent. And as for caressing with obvious intent—that shall occur in a timely manner, I can assure you, several times if I have my wish.” He grinned, bringing her hand to his mouth for well-placed kisses and nibbles.

Feeling rejuvenated after a full meal, Lizzy was ready for whatever her husband had planned for the day. Darcy rose from the table, assisting his wife from her seat. Lizzy's belly was not yet to the point where rising or sitting was laborious; in fact, her grace was unfailing; however, Darcy was prudent. A maid was sent to retrieve a bonnet and gloves for Mrs. Darcy, which Darcy placed on his wife himself, kissing and tenderly caressing throughout the procedure that should have only consumed a minute but instead lasted close to ten.

Lizzy smiled into his eyes, his fingers yet nestled under her chin, ostensibly straightening the bonnet's bow. “Where are we headed?”

He smiled enigmatically, offering his arm, tucking her securely against his side, and steered toward the steps leading to the grass. They walked at a leisurely pace across the manicured lawn, talking softly of the past.

“Often I have considered the various brilliant phrases and declarations I wished to say to you while visiting here, especially upon our initial encounter when you so surprised me,” Darcy said as they reached the serpentine hedge and began weaving their way through the maze.

“What did you decide you should have said?”

Darcy laughed lowly, shaking his head. “I never did decide on a sure phrase. Oh, I came up with all sorts of clever witticisms or irresistible banter in my musings, none of which I would have remotely conjured at the time even had I not been nonplussed. Obviously if enchanting conversation were a forte of mine, I may not have been in such a predicament in the first place!” He squeezed her arm, Lizzy chuckling.

They passed through the vine-draped archway in the center of the maze. The central clearing was an exact circle of clover precisely thirty feet in diameter with an enormous elm tree in the center, trunk girded by a low brick bench. The entire maze spanned nearly two hundred feet with four entrances, north, south, east, and west. The paths weaved and twined with a combination of curves and angles, ultimately intersecting and leading to four equally spaced exits in the middle. All throughout the labyrinth were niches cut into the six-foot-tall hedges with statues or ornamentally sculpted bushes. Lizzy loved the maze. It had not taken her long to figure her way through all the pathways, probably aided by her superior sense of direction, and it was one of her favorite haunts.

She and Darcy strolled about the perimeter in contented companionship, smiling in remembrance.

Darcy continued, “In my imaginings I charmed utterly, but certainly not in reality. No, I stood there and moronically watched you walk away. For at least ten minutes I could not think coherently. If it were not for the lingering scent of your perfume, I may have convinced myself I had finally succumbed to my fantasies.”

Lizzy stopped and was staring at him with skepticism. “You did not seriously smell my perfume?”

Darcy's brow rose. “Yes, I did. Lavender. It was in the air long after you departed.” He leaned over, burying his face into her hair and inhaling deeply. “As I thought. Lavender. You splashed with jasmine,” he nuzzled her neck, “but your hair wash is lavender, as it was at the Netherfield Ball.” He paused to bestow a smattering of gentle sucks over her collarbone, Lizzy instantly shivering but also shaking her head.

“I cannot believe the details you recollect. Even after all this time you can yet dumbfound me, William. How did you note I used lavender?”

Darcy flushed slightly, taking her hand and sitting on the bench under the tree. “I noted everything about you, Elizabeth, both consciously and unconsciously. I caught whiffs while you dwelt at Netherfield, but the fragrance invaded my mind while we danced. Unfortunately I only had that one opportunity to get close enough to you, but I noticed your scent. It was intoxicating, but then everything about you intoxicated me, even your arguing, as it showed your spirit. At Kent I deduced it must be your favorite perfume as you always wore it.” He caressed her fingers, staring at her hands entwined in his. “When I returned to Pemberley… after… I had the potted lavender outside my study window removed. I ordered Mrs. Reynolds to banish all lavender from the house. She must have thought me mad, although that oddity was the least of my peculiarities last summer.”

He smiled wryly, glancing into her eyes. “You know the strangest part? Three weeks before you visited I was in my study, staring out the open doors as I do when cogitating. I was not thinking of you at that moment. I did, frequently, but was gradually finding the pain not as severe but more… bittersweet. The memory of your face and voice had become a part of me. The sadness of loss was as intense as ever, but had been tempered by the joy of having known you, even if superficially. Anyway, I was dwelling on a business issue, the very one that would take me to London, when I glanced to the patio stones and marked the stain from the pots of lavender I had ordered removed. Instantly I thought of you, your face as clear to me as it is now. As an epiphany it abruptly struck me that I no longer wished to erase you from my memory. I held no hope at that point but knew with certainty that I would never love another as I did you and I did not want to forget that feeling. So, I rang for Mr. Taylor and asked him to discover where the pots were and to have them returned. I felt… happier, somehow, once they were back, and the scent was comforting.”

“Perhaps it was a sign,” Lizzy spoke softly.

“That you would return to me as well? Perhaps. Although I still was flummoxed to see you.” He laughed. “I do not believe I have ever been so confounded in all my life! As I said, I stood rooted to the spot, smelling lavender, and utterly at a loss as to the logical course of action.” He continued to chuckle with the recollection.

“What did you finally do? I mean, I know you invited us to dine the next day, to my increased embarrassment and astonishment, but how did you reach that decision? It seems so unlike you.”

He sighed. “Well, that is the crux of it, love. I had to do something radical. I was surprised and confused, but knew for cert that I was being offered a second chance. You were obviously nervous to encounter me as we did, but as I mused over your words and demeanor, you did not impress me as harboring hostility or distaste toward me. I refused to assume too much and your discomfort gave me pause, but I could not believe it an accident that you were here. Of all the manors in all of England, you were here! The probability of this occurring by random chance is astronomical. I decided it had to be by Design, an opportunity for me to mend the damage I had inflicted.”

He turned to his wife with a beatific smile. “Of course, all those thoughts flashed through my mind in a chaotic whirl. The foremost sensation was quite simply a gut-wrenching surge of desire and need. It all was back in a gush of emotion. My love for you as desperate and intense as ever. How I stood upright yet amazes me as I could barely breathe, so agonizing my yearning to kiss you and hold you and tell you how passionately I loved you.”

“Fitzwilliam,” she breathed, reaching to cup his face. “How star-crossed we were! I had recently been gazing at your image with such aching hunger, if only you had known. You could have swept me into your arms right then and I would have melted, never to depart this place until I was yours completely.”

Moving simultaneously, their mouths met. The spoken remembrances of craving igniting a tangible firestorm of passion as they devoured breath and essence. Lizzy climbed onto his lap, Darcy embracing tightly. Hands were everywhere, voraciously touching. For long minutes it continued, fingers mindlessly beginning to release buttons and untie a cravat.

“Lizzy! God, I must love you, but not here. Wait, beloved! Please, come with me.” He rose, lifting her from his lap and setting her unsteadily onto her feet. He palmed her cheeks, kissing lightly. “Come,” he repeated, taking her hand and leading infallibly along the twisting path.

They exited the maze to the south, wending past the lily pond located before this opening, under the stone archway, and then across the extensive lawn rolling up the gentle slope beside the Falls to the Greek Temple. It was a significant distance, easily negotiated, but necessitating reining in the rushed pace. Lizzy was panting imperceptibly, at times the added weight to her slender frame affecting her. Darcy kept a firm grip on her hand, always a step ahead, but cognizant of his wife's struggles so he quelled his verve. By the time he parted the hanging branches screening the trail to the grotto, the worst of their flaming fervor had ebbed, although it was not entirely abated to be sure.

Lizzy released a booming laugh. Somehow in the midst of all his organizing he had managed to additionally assemble a romantic tableau of blankets and cushions over the soft grassy plain in the grotto. A basket sat on a flat rock, waiting.

“When in the world did you find the time to do this?”

“I told you I arose quite early this morning,” he whispered near her ear from his stance behind her, hands resting lightly on her waist. “I have taken to keeping the blankets and cushions in the Temple since we inevitably find our way here now and again.” He nibbled her lobe, initiating his travels over the long expanse of her glorious neck.

Lizzy sighed, leaning onto his hard chest and clasping his hands. Five times since returning from London in July they had managed to finagle time to visit Darcy's hidden sanctuary; twice planned but the other three spontaneous trysts as their feet veered toward the dell while walking. They were both coming to discover the delight of fresh air and balmy breezes over naked flesh irresistible and slightly addictive. The effect on their libido was remarkable, not that their mania for each other needed a stimulant.

“Do you require refreshment or rest, my love?” he asked, tone clearly indicating his fervid hope that the answer was negative.

Lizzy smiled tenderly, stroking his long fingers. “Nothing, my darling, but you. Always, only you.”

Unhesitatingly, he resumed the unfastening of buttons, albeit leisurely now that they were alone with passion cooler. His left hand released the tie and clasps located on her left side, the other fingers laced with hers over their child.

“So tell me, my husband, how did the dress removal fantasy unfold?”

Darcy smiled against the nape of her neck. “Hmmm… A myriad of ways, in truth, my lover. In this position I imagined your body pressed into me with your dainty hands stroking over my thighs… yes, rather like that, Elizabeth. Then I would lavish your creamy neck with adoring kisses and nibbles. One reason I so admire this dress is the miniscule number of clasps securing it to your perfect body. See, just that easy and it is undone! It peels off so delicately, your skin revealed to my touch. Ah! A delight I had not anticipated… the cool air raising tiny bumps over your succulent flesh and your nipples hardening like little pebbles. Wonderful!”

“That effect transpires from your touch, beloved,” she whispered hoarsely. “What next?”

He cleared his throat, resuming, “Then you stand in your shift. Of course, I had never seen a woman's undergarment except on Georgie once or twice when ill, so my memory was vague, but I rightfully imagined something lacy and mildly transparent. So incredibly feminine and soft, caressing your skin and silky under my palms. I can feel the warmth of you through the linen, the trembling as I arouse you and revere your body. Oh my love, how utterly beautiful you are! Summertime clothing is light and airy, so fewer layers, and no stays to encumber my access now that you are pregnant. So freely liberated is a shift, falling to your lovely feet handily. Now, here you are my precious wife, flushed and naked in my arms. Aflame with desire for me, because of me. My Lizzy, I love you so! I must make love to you!”

She pivoted in his embrace, leisure forgotten with resurgent yearning. The loosened, dangling cravat was pulled away, Darcy already removing his jacket. He encircled her again, grasping her bottom and pressing into his pelvis as she attacked the buttons of his waistcoat. Thus locked and entwined, they dropped to the blankets. Words were lost as mouths became occupied in sensuous pursuits. His shirt pulled off and tossed by Lizzy, who expeditiously moved in to kiss his chest while he struggled to discard boots and trousers.

Stretching onto the plush covering they paused, eyes riveted with seething desire and profound love. Darcy smoothed the loose hair from Lizzy's brow, bending to kiss her forehead then temple.

“Elizabeth, my wife. I love you.”

His virile frame swathed her totally as he claimed her mouth in a thorough kiss. Beautiful rhythm as ecstasy rose higher with hearts fluttering. The warmth of September was diminished substantially under the thick branches and with breezes filtering through the brush over chill water; nonetheless, their bodies bathed in sweat from the exertion of intense ardor. Despite the fervid urgency of their mutual passion, neither rushed to attain fulfillment. Rather they danced with patterns of languid movements of extreme tenderness conjoined with periods of furious momentum. It was a prolonged, varied engagement of indescribable lovemaking culminating in due course with stunning rapture, their cries of sublime joy uninhibited and explosive.

They lay entwined on the pillows, as close as two bodies could manage, skin touching on every plane. Darcy lay on his side, cuddling Elizabeth into his chest with both silky legs trapped between his muscular ones, playing with her hair while watching their baby's lazy pushes. The sturdy kicks could now be visibly discerned as Lizzy's abdominal skin rose and rippled bizarrely. These humorous waves were a new development, first noted by a doting father two mornings ago while studying a slumbering wife. His infatuation and ebullience was infectious, Lizzy not sure what thrilled her greatest: the visual evidence of their child's vitality or her husband's giddiness.

Darcy pressed one finger onto a tiny bulge, grinning ridiculously. His animated face rested inches from Lizzy's, breath tickling her cheek when he spoke. “Do you think it a foot or elbow perhaps? Simply amazing! He must feel compressed, yearning for more space. Or merely exercising his muscles. Like either you or me, needing action and movement.”

Lizzy lay her hand atop his, giggling at the wonder on his face. Darcy ignored her, mesmerized by the antics of their baby and the marvelous changes to his wife's body. Her breasts had not increased further for the past couple months, but were heavier, the nipples darkening slightly. Her belly had grown considerably, no gown able to hide the swell. The skin remained soft, supple, and void of marks, thanks to his uncle's ointment and Darcy's diligent massaging, but her navel was flattening and a faint shadowy line was visible from the umbilicus to groin. Her waist was thicker although the primary expansion was frontal, Lizzy still not noticeably gravid when viewed from behind. Her hips seemed a wee bit wider, and she occasionally complained of mild joint pain, a result, the book assured them, of muscles and ligaments preparing for childbirth.

Overall her health was as vigorous as always. The rare and thankfully minor contractions of the womb, faint twinges in her hips and lower back, occasional breathlessness if she overexerted, and infrequent heartburn were the only annoying complications thus far endured. What weight she had gained apparently all resided in her midsection and chest as the remainder of her frame was as slim, or bony as Lizzy teasingly called it to Darcy's irritation, as ever.

It was this very frame—sumptuous and toned and lissome to Darcy's eyes—that he now caressed with avid intensity and devotion. He quite simply never tired of touching and gazing upon his wife. Lizzy's idolization toward her husband's physique was as fanatical; therefore, she admiringly brushed over his chest and abdomen with the back of one hand while the other was lovingly clasped in Darcy's embracing one.

She turned her head and kissed him fleetingly, smiling into his blue eyes. “You did not finish your tale, my heart. You left off standing in a state of paralysis.”

Darcy chuckled vibrantly. “How apropos of you to call it paralysis, love. It truly was. I think my brain even shut down as I do not recall what, if anything, I said to you. I do not honestly know how long I stood there after you had gone, but the stasis abruptly fell from me and I spun about and lurched up the stairs. I am certain I appeared the utter fool, all grace and dignity of station vanished. My only thought was that I could not let you go. Georgiana, bless her heart, was stunned at my appearance, likely thinking me again mad. After my actions earlier that summer I believe she thought I had mentally snapped!”

Lizzy was laughing at the vision as Darcy continued with humor imbuing his voice, “I was rambling and largely incoherent when I joined her in the music room. Somewhere in the midst she heard your name spoken. Of course, she knew the whole story of our relationship thus far, of my feelings toward you, but was highly confused by my behavior and unexpected arrival home. It took awhile before she deciphered my disjointed raving as meaning you were presently on Pemberley grounds. I finally bumbled some sort of explanation, enough that she gathered you were visiting with your aunt and uncle in Lambton, and that I intended to delay your departure and restate my feelings. You understand, Elizabeth, I had no plan, was largely inarticulate and mildly deranged. I dashed out of the music room, nearly bowled over Mrs. Reynolds in the hall, barked an order to resaddle my horse, and vaulted up the stairs with the vague intent to freshen up, as if washing my face and adding cologne would somehow cause you to fall into my arms!”

They were both laughing at this point, Darcy having rolled onto his back and wiping at his eyes. “I was wholly nonsensical. In truth, my irrationality of the moment led to the fortunate by-product of rapidly barreling up a flight of stairs and endless corridors rather than attempting to detain the three of you immediately. If I had, I am certain your uncle would have deemed me insane and vacated the premises forthwith! Instead, I reached my rooms wheezing and palpitating and had no option but to collapse onto the bed. I am athletic and vigorous, but I do think I was near to a heart seizure. While struggling to merely survive, cold rationality was reestablished. It was while I sat there calming that I decided to invite you and the Gardiners to dine. The logic of having you in my home with me and Georgiana for hours uninterrupted was beyond appealing and kept my heart racing despite my efforts at serenity.”

He rolled back toward Lizzy, stroking her face. “You know the rest. I do believe I managed true gentlemanly decorum by the time I spoke with your uncle and aunt.”

“Indeed you did. I, on the other hand, was a mass of churning nervousness and desperately begged them to leave.”

Darcy arched his brows in surprise. “You did? Why?”

Lizzy reddened slightly, tracing her fingertips over his nose and chin. “I still felt so mortified and confused, I suppose. You had every reason to despise me or at least be indifferent. If ever one had given you cause to lose your good opinion, it was me! Like you, I had not sensed distaste in your words or posture, but I would not have predicted you wanting to dine with me or allowing me anywhere near your sister. I was truly shocked.” She giggled suddenly, fingers on his lips. “By the way, I never told you my aunt's words. She said you were charming and that there was an agreeableness to your mouth.”

Darcy blushed scarlet and Lizzy giggled, placing her lips softly on his. “She is correct, you know. I watched your mouth quite avidly all the next day, your smiles and laughter, and could not believe the thoughts rushing through my mind.”

“What sort of thoughts?” he asked huskily.

“Let me show you,” she murmured, proceeding to feather playfully over his mouth, utilizing teeth, lips, and tongue to great advantage. Darcy quickly lost all sense of anything but his rising fever, hands moving as he responded vehemently to her actions.

Darcy arched and groaned, voice a rough whisper when he spoke. “Elizabeth, I stand in awe at your imagination, but rather doubt you envisioned this or anything remotely similar merely by looking at my mouth!”

Lizzy laughed, kissing his pulsing throat and then capturing an earlobe between her lips. “I confess the specific details have evolved over time, my lover, but my desire for you was blossoming, aided in no small part by your sensuality and flawless physique. I may have been innocent then, Fitzwilliam, but I knew I wanted you. God how I wanted you! How I still want you, all of you, always.”

He crushed her tightly to his chest. “You shall always have me, Elizabeth. Have no fear.”