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

Chapter Four Caister-on-Sea

“William.”

He turned at the sound of her voice, scenery of sunset over the water forgotten in a millisecond by the exquisite vision before his eyes. She wore a new gown of aquamarine satin, the skirt bordered with rouleaux of twining lace and roses; a velvet navy-blue spencer with short capped sleeves trimmed with wide, white lace accenting her bosom; gathers of satin falling in gentle folds over her swollen belly. The Kashmir shawl draped her fair shoulders, and a choker of blue velvet with a diamond pendant graced her slim neck. She was beautiful, glowing, and vibrant. Darcy was struck forcibly by how profound was his love and pride in squiring her as his.

He smiled, extending an arm with hand palm up. “Elizabeth, you are breathtaking. Come, beloved, watch the sun's setting glow upon the waves before it falls beyond the trees to the west.” She joined him on the small balcony, Darcy encircling her waist and kissing her rosy cheek before resuming his study of the ocean.

A leisurely, halting drive along the coast had brought them to the enormous, sprawling building of rustic wooden beams and irregular stone that rested on a promontory roughly fifteen feet above the shore. Built over one hundred years ago, the lodge was once the seaside vacation dwelling of a now deceased viscount from Shropshire. Left without an immediate heir and financially depleted, the estate had been inherited by a distant cousin who wisely grasped onto the rising fashion of seaside bathing and avoiding Continental travel during the decades of wars. He transformed the gorgeous mansion into an elegant, opulent resort sought after by the gentry from all parts of England. Catering exclusively to the elite desiring a quiet recess from the cares of life, the woodsy seclusion, provincial charm, and luxurious furnishings created a wonderful combination highly praised among those wealthy enough to afford the accommodations.

Located a half mile south of Caister-on-Sea, the three-story-tall country house was nestled aside a sheltered stretch of beach secluded from the main shoreline by a natural rocky protrusion to the north and man-made wooden pier to the south. The pier was part of the resort, arising from an elevated, tree-lined bluff beyond the formal garden, and extending a hundred feet over the waves. The ornately designed formal garden and patio positioned near the pier also skirted the cliff's brink, providing a stunning view of the North Sea from the shade of canvas and leaves over plush chairs and settees. The bluff was surrounded by indigenous trees and bushes allowed to grow as nature intended with minimal purposeful landscaping interfering.

The individual suites were generous, well apportioned, and situated to grant adequate privacy from the fellow guests except for brief passes in the wide corridors. Ground floor public rooms that allowed for socializing and group dining if so desired were interspersed with intimate parlors and sheltered alcoves for personal privacy.

The Darcys had arrived late in the afternoon with no time to tour the elaborate environs or the opulent public rooms inside the house. With a planned sojourn of two weeks, they would have plenty of time to explore the resort's attributes. In fact, neither felt any rush at all, perfectly content to stand together on their ocean-facing balcony and observe the brilliant hues of scarlet, orange, and purple.

Lizzy rested her head against Darcy's upper arm with a sigh. “I have never seen such colors. Beautiful. Can we walk on the beach at night?”

“Certainly, although probably not wise in that gown. I would not wish to see it soiled overly. You are absolutely ravishing, my love,” he finished in a low tone.

Lizzy slipped her arms over his shoulders, peering up into his face. “I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Thank you for the compliment and you are welcome to ravish later; however, now I am famished.”

The approximately fifty current guests sat in various-sized groupings throughout the dining parlors, some electing to eat at solitary tables sequestered from strangers, but some desiring to sit in larger companies of friends or new acquaintances. Darcy, never overly comfortable in a large crowd of unknown individuals, had opted to dine with his wife in one of the private dining parlors at a single table secluded near the wall-spanning windows overlooking the bay. The food was marvelous, service elegant and superb, and atmosphere divine. Lizzy and Darcy gazed at each other over the candlelight, softly talking as they ate, and filled to bursting capacity with unrelenting love. A number of evening entertainments were scheduled and offered nightly for the lodgers, but for this night the Darcys wished to be alone, departing immediately upon finishing their meal and returning to their room. There they would stay, primarily in the comfortable bed, snuggling and loving and sleeping intermittently until well after sunrise.

“Need any assistance with removing your gown, Mrs. Darcy?”

“Stay over there, Mr. Darcy, as I am quite certain sea bathing would be delayed indefinitely if you aided my disrobing.”

Darcy laughed, obeying his wife as he removed and carefully folded his waistcoat from where he sat on the narrow bench. Assist he may not do, but observe the stripping? Absolutely.

They were inside one of the resort's bathing machines Darcy reserved for an hour of private couples bathing. Naturally, despite his many excursions at coastal towns, this would be his first experience bathing with a woman, his adorable wife, the anticipation higher than any of the numerous times he swam with a troop of men.

He was impressed with the quality of bathing machine the resort offered. In point of fact, he was greatly impressed with all he had seen thus far, the remote and obscure tourist town well equipped and modern. The wide cove was divided into separate sectors for intimate bathing well away from the public areas for beach play. Furthermore, the machine usage was scheduled with segregated periods for married couples and for the individual sexes. Darcy planned to return later in the afternoon when the men bathed, already relishing what would be an extended span of intense swimming through the surf.

For now, however, he was thrilled to be here with Lizzy, introducing her to the joy of sea bathing. He only hoped he could control himself and allow her to truly enjoy the water. Watching her undress down to her shift and imagining how the thin garment would cling to her body once wet was not conducive to maintaining his restraint, Darcy swallowing and forcefully tearing his eyes away.

“I suppose he is safe and warm, untouchable by the cold water.” Darcy glanced over, Lizzy standing with hands caressing her abdomen.

He smiled. “He is cocooned and protected, beloved, do not fear. The dippers all agreed, and you are not the first pregnant woman to bathe. Besides, the water is not all that cold. I think you shall find it refreshing. Are you ready?”

She nodded, eyes gazing over his naked form with equally decadent thoughts arising. “Are you certain we cannot be seen? I would rather no other see you in such a state.”

Darcy laughed. “Fret not. I promise you, I would not permit you appearing in your shift if I thought there the slightest chance we would be visible to roving eyes! The canopy shall shield us. Now, sit on the bench and hold on while we move.” She did as he instructed, Darcy pulling the lever to raise the outside flag. This was the signal for the driver to back the wheeled cabin into the water.

The so-called bathing machine had been around since the early 1700s, invented by Benjamin Beale. The concept was remarkably simple: a large wagon propelled by two horses with a canvas or wooden shed built on top; the interior generally consisted of shelves or closets to place one's clothing, a bench for sitting, and supplied with a stack of towels; one door in the front as the entrance, the backside open with steps to enter the water. A driver would direct the horses to back the wagon into the water then, in the case of private bathers, depart a safe distance until the flag was lowered as signal to withdraw the device from the water. Same-sex “dippers” were available to attend those persons who could not swim. This particular machine also sported an enormous tent off the back end to allow for added privacy.

Darcy jumped unhesitantly into the water, immediately diving completely under, swimming several clean strokes away, and surfacing with a splash. He turned to his wife with a grin, water running in rivers down his torso while he smoothed the wet hair off his brow. Lizzy waited on the top step, dangling one foot into the waves and admiring unabashedly. The water was waist high on Darcy, meaning that it would hit Lizzy well above her bulging abdomen. He waded back to her, snaking cold wet hands under her shift and clutching her inner thighs.

Lizzy gasped, jerking spasmodically. “You devil! Spawn of Satan as your aunt declared!”

Darcy merely laughed, grinning mischievously. “I thought you were brave, Elizabeth Darcy, fearless and adventurous. Was I in error in this assessment?” He climbed the steps, leaning his wet body against hers for a soggy kiss.

She squealed against his lips, wincing, but threw her arms over his shoulders and launched forward. Darcy was unbalanced in his surprise, both of them falling into the water. His strong legs stood fast on the sand, preventing Lizzy from being dunked, but the splashing water doused her adequately. She laughed and wheezed at the same time.

“Not that cold, he says! I beg to differ, sir!”

“Buck up, my lady. Be strong and…” His words halted by a forceful splash aimed precisely into his open mouth. Lizzy giggled and slithered away, walking on tiptoes over the shifting sand.

“Plainly unfair,” he finally sputtered.

“Serves you right. Look, William, the bottom is so clear once the sand settles.” She was staring into the water with rapt intensity, arms skimming over the surface. “I think I can… wait… let me see… Yes!” She bent slightly, reaching into the water and then raising her arm into the air with a shout of glee, a two-inch round rock in her hand. She looked at her smiling husband with pride. “Perfect balance and dexterity. Not bad for an obese whale. Here, a souvenir,” and she tossed the small stone to Darcy, who caught it midair.

“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with it?” He spread his arms widely, “If you have not noticed, I am unclothed. No pockets readily available.”

Lizzy grinned, floating back to her husband, eyes raking over his form. “Oh yes, sir, I did notice you are unclothed. Of course, you are a man supremely noticeable whether clothed or not.” She slipped her arms around his neck, nuzzling close, the rock discarded hastily as he enveloped her body. “Are you going to teach me how to float and swim, my beloved personal bathing instructor, or are we to continue discussing your nakedness? Either option appeals to me as they both involve your luscious body near mine.” She nibbled his lobe, Darcy clutching her tightly with a heady sigh.

“Are you seducing me, Mrs. Darcy?”

“The thought did cross my mind, my lover. You assert we are utterly alone here.”

“I cannot in good conscience renege on my vow to teach you to swim and float, however. All trust and confidence in my fidelity would be forfeit.” His hands glided over her bottom, pulling her firmly against him. “I shudder to imagine what you would then think of me.” He grinned, bending to bestow a thorough kiss lasting long enough to leave them both as breathless as if running a mile dash.

With a quick peck to her nose, he flipped her about, Lizzy instinctively thrashing. “Relax! I shall teach you to float. Surely you did this as a child in your pond, but the buoyant salt water makes it easier.”

“Is the instructor expected to frighten the wits out of the student with rushed movements?”

“Only when said student is attempting to divert attention away from the lesson. Such behavior is considered cheating and would earn a sharp rap to the knuckles if we were in a proper classroom. Breathe shallowly, Elizabeth, but do breathe. I shall not let you go.”

“Is this the voice of experience, William? The rapped knuckles, that is?”

“Absolutely not. I was a perfect student. Attentive and never in trouble.” His tone was patently false with lips pursed. Lizzy chuckled, earning a tiny pinch to her bottom. “Concentrate, Mrs. Darcy.”

She closed her eyes and relaxed, Darcy's arms under her back and upper legs. She had floated proficiently in her youth, even self taught a few basic swim strokes, but it had been years since her last rebellious foray to the Longbourn pond. The Pemberley grotto pond was far too shallow and small to attempt swimming, and the floating done in Darcy's embrace never lasted very long before preferable activities interrupted. This was vastly different. The gentle waves lapped around her, causing her body to bob and sway; the salty water was buoyant, the feeling of lightness delightful.

She sighed, a small smile of contentment on her lips. “For the first time in weeks I do not feel weighted down and off center. This is marvelous.”

Silence fell, Darcy enamored. She was radiant in her happiness and, as suspected, the wet clinging shift left nothing to the imagination. His wife's incredible body with perky breasts and hard nipples, lissome legs, dainty feet and toes, precious swollen abdomen, delicate shoulders and collarbone all lay before his ravenous eyes. His arousal, well on the way since disrobing in the machine, was now complete. He cleared his throat, dragging his thoughts harshly away from the vision of hungrily loving her on the warm sand.

“Is it so burdensome carrying our child?”

She opened her eyes, gazing with overpowering love into the depths of his blue orbs. “Not in the least burdensome. The changes are odd, wearying at times, and I do feel awkward, but it is never a burden. Can I tell you something? I never imagined, since loving you so wholeheartedly, that I could possibly love someone as greatly, until now. He is not here yet, I do not know what he shall look like, or what his personality shall be, but I already love him with all my soul. It is rather strange, but so wonderful. How could I then deem his presence inside me a burden?”

Darcy had told her once that on occasion she said or did something that was so amazing to him that the emotions surging through his soul were nigh on unbearable in their intensity. This was such a time. As inadequate as it was, all he could manage was a brilliant smile, his eyes misting and larynx constricting.

Lizzy rolled out of his arms, turning about and clasping onto his forearms. “What next, teacher?” she asked teasingly, pulling herself into his chest with hands sliding down his back to derriere while wrapping her legs about his thighs. “Back stroke? Breast stroke?” Squeezing his rump firmly, she snared his lower lip and sucked, easy to accomplish as his mouth had parted open in avid yearning.

Darcy groaned, regulation and propriety forgotten. He cupped her face, applying fervid pressure to her mouth. Lizzy responded blissfully for a moment, startling him when she abruptly launched backward, using his body like a wall. Performing a number of perfectly executed backstrokes, she smoothly traversed the distance to the bathing machine steps. Her laughter floated on the air as he stood rooted to the spot. She settled onto the lower steps, body mostly submerged, observing his surprise with a naughty grin.

“As you can see, Fitzwilliam, I already know the backstroke. Perhaps you can show me the breast stroke?” She unbuttoned the top of her shift as she spoke, peering at him through lowered lashes.

Darcy grinned lasciviously, crossing the short space with a cleanly performed breaststroke, grasping onto the rails and pulling himself up until hovering over, muscles rippling and hairs black. He leaned in, lips brushing her upturned mouth, whispering huskily, “I love you, Elizabeth. God, how I love you! Please tell me I can make love to you here in this inappropriate place as I desperately burn for you and cannot return to the hotel in my current state!”

Lizzy reached to fondle him, Darcy moaning loudly, her legs drawing him closer. “I confessed I wished to seduce you, did I not? Love me, Fitzwilliam, please.” Nodding curtly, he claimed her mouth, devouring in his thirst for her. Releasing the rails for a far preferable grip to her breasts and bottom, Darcy united with his wife in one rawly penetrating motion.

On Christmas Eve they had first discovered the joy of making love in the tub, a blissfully rapturous interlude that they had repeated numerous times since. The sublime combined sensations of warm water surrounding their bodies while passion raged internally created a liaison of exquisite proportions. This assignation was both similar and yet superbly variant. Their bodies flamed, heat rising immeasurably until skin flushed; small bumps spreading over flesh fiery from within while chilled from the cold water and balmy air without, the fusion heightening the tactility of every touch and caress.

It was heavenly! For not the first time in their marriage they each wondered how it was possible for passion to soar to a higher pinnacle than yet attained. Darcy could not control himself, moving harshly within her in a frenzied voracity. Fleetingly he worried that he may be too rough, never wishing to harm her in any way, but she met his pace equally and propelled him on. The chill water swirled over their flaming flesh, surrounding and surging their most intimate regions as they loved. The racing sensations were inexplicably powerful.

Their culmination, when it finally arrived, swept through them in a torrent, shouts released in unrestrained ecstasy, only later thankfully recalling their isolation.

“Have fun, beloved, but be careful. I do not want to hear of my husband being caught in an undertow or snared in kelp.”

“I shall be cautious. See you in a couple hours.” He kissed her cheek and squeezed her hands before striding briskly toward the pier. Lizzy watched his tall, elegant figure until he disappeared from view, and turned toward the lodge with a sigh. She was not overly worried about him swimming in the open ocean, although the possible dangers were real. Mainly she recognized that she would miss him, but knowing how greatly he adored vigorous athletic pursuits, and swimming being one infrequently partaken, she could not deny him the activity.

The men bathed on the far side of the pier; the pier itself closed down for the afternoon to prevent any peeking, not that there was a woman alive who would admit to such voyeurism. Darcy had told her that most resorts scheduled male swimming in this manner. He said that most men preferred to swim in the nude; Darcy did, although some wore breeches or bathing outfits that were basically a type of long underwear of light wool. The vision of a company of nude men splashing about the waves was far too humorous to resist imagining, despite her embarrassment.

She sighed again. In truth, she would give anything to see her virile spouse with muscles contracting and tensing as he cut cleanly through the water. Granted the brief view of his strokes while with her that morning and well familiar with his manly physique, the picture was readily conjured and she shivered involuntarily. Stifling a highly unseemly moan, she entered the common room.

Those women left alone while their husbands or fathers bathed milled about conversing and sipping tea. Lizzy was greeted enthusiastically, her natural gregariousness rising to the fore. In no time at all she had formed numerous casual friendships and received a dozen invitations to dine at group tables. The array of women revealed a diversity of situations. Three young women were newly married like herself, one on her honeymoon and another pregnant with her first child as well. There were several unmarried maidens touring with families. The bulk of the women were older, enjoying holidays with husbands of many years or even decades. A final group consisted of the spinster sisters traveling with a brother; a widow and her companion; and Lady Eloise Underwood, a woman in her mid-thirties boldly traveling alone with servants only.

Lizzy had a delightful afternoon, tremendously entertained with titillating discourse, delicious snacks, and several games of whist. She returned to their chambers well after Darcy, who was already bathed and dressing for dinner. Not surprisingly, he had communicated sparingly with his fellow swimmers, learned only four names that he could effortlessly recall, and received no invitations to dine. He shrugged his shoulders, utterly apathetic to the lack of society, but more than willing to join a group table if it pleased his wife.

For their second night Darcy relented and they dined with a group of fellow visitors. He quashed with some difficulty the surge of possessiveness that reared, recognizing his wife's natural gregariousness that allowed her to make friends so easily and thrill in casual socializing. They dined in one of the larger dining chambers, elegantly furnished and softly illuminated by flickering candle chandeliers. Wide windows offered a view of the northern wood illuminated faintly by the moon. They were joined by Lady Eloise Underwood; the widowed Mrs. Alcastor and her companion Miss Stein; the Henner family, consisting of a husband and wife and two teenaged daughters; and Lord and Lady Stewart, a middle-aged couple with three children who were safely at home in Kent. Darcy was by far the most taciturn member of the assembly, although Lord Stewart was nearly as silent. The two men eventually discovered an equal passion for horses, a topic that would carry them through the evening.

The after-dinner recreation, aside from the usual games of cards, chess, and backgammon, was a silhouette party. Lizzy had read of the art form but never beheld the process. The fad of tracing silhouettes, or shades, began in France in the mid-1700s and was popularized by King George III with “shade parties” a favored amusement amongst the royal elite. The artist employed for the next three nights at the Caister Seaside Resort was a German who lived in Norwich and traveled up and down the coastal towns plying his talent.

Lizzy was thrilled by the idea of obtaining a tracing of her husband's profile and Darcy enchanted with having one of her, so they both consented to sit for the artist and purchase the portrait. Artists employed differing techniques and materials, but all focused on the profile. The concept was simple: A bright lantern was positioned near the subject's face, casting a shadow onto a white paper screen. The shade was then traced, to be later cut by hand onto black parchment or fabric, craftily embellished with slashed cuts for collars or jewels or other details, mounted onto a white background, and then framed.

The evening's diversion was tremendous fun, the German droll and cheerful as well as a gifted artisan. Darcy and Lizzy decided to place their shapes facing each other on the same picture, lightly bronzed and elaborately framed. It was a fine piece of art that would hang in their sitting room as a remembrance of this holiday for the whole of their lives.

It was late when they crawled into their bed, Lizzy already drifting into slumber when her warm-bodied spouse nestled against her back. He drew her close, wrapping limbs about her and kissing a bare shoulder.

“Good night, my heart,” she whispered sleepily, twining her fingers between the longer ones lying on her belly. “Sleep well. I love you.”

“I love you, Elizabeth,” he answered with a gigantic yawn, kissing her ear and promptly falling asleep. Thus ended their first full day by the sea: sleeping deeply with cooling breezes and the muted sounds of crashing waves entering the half-open window.

“Here you are, Elizabeth.”

“Thank you, dearest.” Lizzy smiled into her husband's eyes as she reached to take the tall glass of mixed fruit juice from his hand. “What do you have there?”

He placed the small linen-wrapped basket he held in his hand, the subject of her query, onto the little table between their chairs. Responding as he reclaimed his seat, “I thought while I was retrieving beverages for us I would also snare a snack. Completely selfish on my part as I did not wish to trudge up to the inn thirty minutes from now when you suddenly realized you have not eaten in two hours.” He grinned while Lizzy rolled her eyes.

“Walking some hundred feet hardly qualifies as trudging, Mr. Darcy, and my increased appetite is all your doing, as we have established.”

“As you wish, Elizabeth. I brought those pecan scones you like so much, some raspberries, and two bananas.” He picked up his book, stretching long legs onto the lounger with a contented sigh.

It was their third day at the resort and thus far they had traveled no farther than the beach, pier, and pathways through the wood. Darcy had a whole list of local entertainments, most of which they did wish to visit, but the delight of leisurely hours staring at the waves and swimming was currently taking precedence. Both days they had risen later than usual, foregoing any bedroom activities to join the other guests for a lingering breakfast as the nightly mist departed. They had missed the sunrises, one of the items on Darcy's list, but the play of morning sunlight on the water and thinning fog was an enchanting backdrop while dining.

At some point in the day they utilized the bathing machine for an hour or two. Darcy did teach his wife to swim, the only stroke she was moderately proficient at being the backstroke. Modesty and safety prevented him steering her too far from the machine, even though they were well away from any potential prying eyes. Lizzy enjoyed the lessons and not merely because Darcy was the teacher. The water was colder then she would have preferred, but bracing and revitalizing nonetheless. Mostly it was the sense of balance and gracefulness she felt in the water that was appealing. Of course, they did manage to waste a great deal of time in horseplay with splashing, diving for rocks, tickling, and dunking. Inevitably the session ended with exquisite lovemaking.

Now they sat on padded, wooden lounge chairs located on the sand. An umbrella shaded them from the harsh sun. This area of the beach, the southern edge of the private expanse nearest the pier, was well away from the bathing machines situated to the left by the rocks. Numerous chairs and umbrellas were set to accommodate the guests. Several children frolicked in the surf, their squeals of glee mingling with seagull squawks and crashing waves. It was wholly relaxing, peaceful, and refreshing. The days were comfortably warm with the oppressive heat of Derbyshire left far behind; cooling, gentle breezes replete with the tang of salt and fish flowed intermittently.

Lizzy sipped her drink and nibbled on a scone while applying the finishing touches on a gown for their baby. Darcy read, naturally, Montesquieu having been completed so now he was studying the dry textbook on marine wildlife and vegetation with intent interest.

“Look here, love.” He spoke into the silence, holding the page up for her inspection. “A drawing of those birds we saw yesterday by the rocks. An Arctic tern. I thought it was in the tern family, but the markings were different. They are indigenous to the polar regions, not seen frequently this far south. Listen to this: they migrate year-round from the Arctic to the Antarctic, making them one of the farthest traveling bird species known. They seek the summers in both places, rarely in their lifetime experiencing night. How fascinating!”

Lizzy smiled, displaying the appropriate amount of interest before resuming her own task. It was not that she found learning the names and habits of God's creatures unworthy, but her thirst for absorbing all knowledge to the tiniest degree was not as unquenchable as it was for Darcy. She was frankly flabbergasted that he could attend to the thick manual page after page as if riveting literature. What was even more astounding is that she knew he would assimilate and regurgitate eighty percent of what he read fifty years hence, his memory phenomenal.

The Henners wandered by, the thirteen- and fifteen-year-old daughters shyly glancing at Darcy, who was oblivious. “Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy,” Mr. Henner greeted with a bow, Mrs. Henner dropping a curtsey and softly greeting. “I pray your afternoon is progressing delightfully?”

“Very much, Mr. Henner. Thank you. Are you leaving the beach?”

Mr. Henner nodded. “The ladies are gathering for a swim. The menfolk will be meeting for faro in the game room. Will you be participating, Mr. Darcy?”

Lizzy stifled a laugh as a cough, Darcy ignoring her as he replied, “Thank you, but no. I will be bathing later, however. See you then, Mr. Henner?”

“Absolutely! Enjoy the sea air, Mrs. Darcy.” They left, the girls giggling and whispering.

“William, if you wish to play cards, I do not mind. You do it so rarely that you should leap at the chance.”

“I play rarely because I am hopelessly inept and unlucky, and I do not particularly enjoy the game. I may appeal to your magnanimity for a game or two of billiards this evening, however. Lord Stewart plays, as does Baron Noble. Would another short separation disturb you, dearest?”

“Of course not. I will miss you, but I am certain I can find some activity to soothe my broken heart.” She reached over and squeezed his hand, Darcy smiling and squeezing in return. He returned to his book, Lizzy staring into the sea. After barely two days she felt as if they had been here a week. As enormously thrilling as their Derbyshire excursion had been, the fast pace had allowed little time for prolonged periods of relaxation. Here they spent inordinate amounts of time doing absolutely nothing, and it was fantastic. Lizzy would hesitate to admit it to her overprotective spouse, but her burgeoning body was gradually beginning to complain at the alterations! Personally she never would have imagined ever reaching a state of mind where lying lazily about was prodigious, but it was happening.

Lost in his text for God knows how long, Darcy was jolted to awareness by a piercing squeal from the water. It was only the children playing, Darcy smiling at their antics as he turned to his wife with a comment only to find her sound asleep. With a frown he realized that the sun had moved past the sheltering umbrella, the left side of her fair face dewy with perspiration from the direct rays. With a mumbled curse at himself, he rose hastily and readjusted the umbrella stand. He touched her cheek gingerly so as not to wake her, sending a silent prayer heavenward for his timing as the skin was unburned.

His eyebrows shot up when he noted the late hour on his pocketwatch, the time for men's bathing ten minutes away. He cautiously adjusted Lizzy's bonnet to further protect her face, studied the sun for a moment and moved the umbrella a bit more, only then satisfied enough to leave her napping. He knelt, gently rubbing over her abdomen and brushing the fingers resting there, leaning for a soft kiss to her head. Resisting the urge to kiss their child with difficulty, several loitering resort guests already peering at him oddly, he rose and crossed to one of the servants standing at attention by the beach edge.

“My good man,” he began, pressing a five-pound note into the stunned servant's hand, “my wife is sleeping under that umbrella there. I am going bathing. I require you to watch the sun's movements and ensure she remains shaded. Wake her if this becomes impossible. When she wakens, inform her where I have gone and assist her to our room. Send for me if necessary.”

His fears and concerns were for naught. Lizzy woke refreshed, well shaded, and with a cooling breeze wafting over her body. She instantly knew where Darcy was, not even needing to check her pocketwatch, the efficient servant merely confirming her supposition. They reconnected to mutual approbation in their bedchamber, both revitalized and dressed for dining. At the lower level landing, however, Darcy led Lizzy to the right and out the front doors.

“I know we have only been here three days now, but I am almost positive our dining room is to the left,” she offered with a smile.

Darcy chuckled. “If you are not feeling faint from hunger, my love, I thought we could walk the beach at dusk. It is a peaceful time of day with the others engaged indoors and the birds calming for the night. I always love the serenity and beauty of the sea at dusk with the sun setting, casting remarkable shadows and deep colors onto the waves.”

“You should have been born near the sea, William, although I cannot imagine you living anywhere but Pemberley.”

“It is interesting, Elizabeth. In my travels I always gravitate to the seashore with eager enthusiasm. Yet, I am not fond of ships per se, despite owning four, nor do I care for sea voyages. I have met so many people who do live by the water and have discovered an odd phenomenon: those who live near the endless beauty of the ocean often take it for granted. They no longer notice the dazzling sunrises or sunsets, the surf does not move them, and they rarely walk the beach. I suppose we are all that way to some degree. I know that since sharing my homeland with you I have renewed my ardor for many of the wonders that I did not readily dwell on. It is as if I am seeing it for the first time through your eyes, and I love that you have provided me the opportunity. Therefore, I consider myself fortunate that I only view the sea every year or so, and from different perspectives. Keeps the experience fresh and ever changing.”

He guided her warily down the dimly lit steps to the beach. They strolled in silence over the expanse of shifting sand toward the water line, the tide notably higher than when Lizzy departed that afternoon. The waning sunlight as it dipped below the western horizon did cast stupendous hues over the clouds and rippling water. With an essentially clear sky marred fragmentally with wispy strings of clouds, the rainbow tones of burnished scarlet, orange, gold, violet, blue, and a myriad unnameable massed together into a vivid display. They stood on the tide's boundary as the eastern horizon faded into deepening shadows; the terminal glimmers of sunlight on undulating waves slowly replaced with twinkles of starlight. A lone sailing vessel of indeterminate type passed gradually into the blackness off the world's rim.

All the while, Darcy and Lizzy stood with arms encircling waists, in silent contemplation of life and nature and the stunning majesty of the Creator.