Chapter 30
The wedding of Mr. Darcy to Miss Elizabeth Bennet took place on a freezing but sunny morning in January.
The beginning of the New Year marked the beginning of their new life.
The ceremony took place at Pemberley’s chapel in the presence of Lady Hardwick and Georgiana, Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, Kitty and Mary, Mr. Slade and Colonel Fitzwilliam, and several of the tenant families and Lambton inhabitants.
Talk and rumour were aroused by the sudden event, as nobody had noticed a preference of the master for Miss Darcy’s friend since she arrived in Derbyshire. But no flaws were found in Miss Bennet, whose pleasant, unaffected manners and amiable disposition had been admired from the beginning.
Miss Darcy’s close friendship and the support openly showed by Lady Hardwick proved to any sceptics that Miss Bennet was worthy to occupy a position that would affect the lives of many.
During the wedding ceremony, Miss Bennet’s beauty shone from obvious happiness, and Mr. Darcy looked more handsome and less severe than he had been seen in a decade.
The wedding breakfast lasted until late afternoon, and Pemberley was filled with more joy, liveliness, and laugher than anyone could remember.
The sun had set before silence returned to Pemberley. The last to leave was the extended family that, with a warm and tearful farewell, departed for Tidestone under the strict supervision of Lady Hardwick and Mr. Slade.
In the midst of a large, quiet, and lonely room, the just wedded couple suddenly found themselves more alone than ever before.
They gazed at each other and their hands entwined, but words remained lost. The silence was so complete that each could hear the other’s heartbeat.
Still wordlessly, Darcy placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders and took her hands in his other palm, slowly guiding her up the stairs towards their apartment.
They had taken the same path countless times in the last three months; everything was the same except their feelings and the realisation that, the next time they walked down the stairs, they would be different people. There would be no he and she anymore but they —complete as one being.
At the door of the master suites, they stopped. Elizabeth had visited the mistress’s apartment several times in the last fortnight. But that was Miss Bennet.
Now, Mrs. Darcy was entering, ready to start a new life with her husband.
Darcy opened the door and looked at her. Her uneasiness met his comforting smile, and she was prepared to walk in when his arms lifted her as a cherished treasure and carried her inside.
He put her down on the bed then sat next to her and took her hands into his, just as he had the night of their confessions and comfort.
“What is it, my love?” he whispered.
“Oh, nothing —I am so ridiculous.” She struggled to laugh. “Forgive me —I will call for Sarah. It will not take long.”
“Elizabeth…” His hands cupped her face, and his thumbs gently caressed her. “My love, nothing that troubles you is ridiculous. Just tell me…and there is no hurry…we have a lifetime together.”
“I know…nothing troubles me. Do not worry…I mean —yes, it does, but it is a good trouble…”
“I am glad to hear that.” He smiled and placed a tender kiss on each of her eyelids.
She moved a little, allowing their lips to meet briefly, then pushed him away gently.
“Leave now, Mr. Darcy. I must prepare, and you are detaining me.”
“I would by no means want to do that, Miss Bennet…forgive me —Mrs. Darcy.”
He reluctantly separated from her, kissing her hands once again, and closed the adjoining doors behind him.
Once alone, Elizabeth glanced at her spectacular apartment.
The glamour, the tasteful blend of colours, the impressive furniture —everything spoke of the importance attached to her new position.
She glanced at the table, and her eyes were drawn by something that had not been there before, something that told of her husband’s love and passion and of his promise for their life together: a bouquet of red roses, fresh and vivid in the middle of winter.
She brushed her fingers along the delicate petals and smelled them; her heart raced, and a shiver ran along her skin.
She rang for Sarah, wondering whether he had mentioned when he would return. Should she hurry or take her time and let him wait? She then scolded herself for such thoughts. Whenever he came, she would be ready for him; she had been ready for him since the night he returned home.
Almost an hour passed while she was bathed and changed for the night.
The time seemed to fly, and Sarah was suddenly moving very slowly —slower than ever before.
When the maid finally left, Elizabeth gazed at her image in the mirror.
She did not have time to order a special nightgown, so Jane offered a new one from her trousseau.
Elizabeth blushed as she considered that, strangely, her sister seemed to have a great number of nightclothes since she married.
She stepped to the window, gazing outside. In the room, light came from two candles and the fireplace, but outside, a full moon shone over Pemberley.
She startled when she heard the door and turned just enough to see him. Her eyes remained fixed on his intense gaze. She had seen him informally attired before, but his appearance in only trousers and a shirt made her shiver, and her lips suddenly became dry.
He moved closer, and every step made her tremble. She licked her lips and turned to the window again. His arms closed around her from behind and she leant back against him.
“Is there something interesting outside, Mrs. Darcy?”
His lips fondled her ear while his whispers made her quiver.
“Yes…I just noticed that the view from this room is the same as the one from my previous chamber.”
His lips lowered to her neck and tasted her skin.
“Yes…that is why I insisted you choose that particular one. I knew that you would have exactly the same view as if you were in this apartment —where you rightfully belonged from the beginning.”
His hoarse voice and his scent became intoxicating. She turned in his arms, her body brushing his, and their lips met.
“I thought you suggested that choice for my benefit,” she murmured.
“Not at all, Mrs. Darcy —mostly for mine. You should know by now that I am a very selfish man.”
He suddenly withdrew from her and distanced himself enough that he could see her. The nightgown caressed her figure, exposing her curves to his greedy eyes.
She was the one who took the first step towards the bed; but there, she stopped. He embraced her again then laid her down.
“I shall blow out the candles,” he said, and she nodded. He did so and returned but sat on the edge of the bed.
“You shiver, my love. Are you cold?”
“No…”
He took off her robe and tossed it away; then his eyes deepened into hers as he gently glided the gown from her shoulders, now covered only by her silky hair.
He lowered the fabric even more, and she closed her eyes.
Slowly, he covered her face with countless, small kisses then traced a warm path along her throat.
His hands stroked her bare skin through the thin fabric, lowered along her body over her ribs then on her hips, her thighs, down to her ankles, and held her feet in his palms for a moment.
She relished the feeling and moaned, her eyes opening to meet his.
But his gaze was now greedily admiring the beauty he had only dreamed of.
With torturous slowness, his lips returned to capture hers while his hands finally rested upon her heart.
His kiss became more demanding while his hands cupped her breasts and his fingers traced tingling circles around each of them.
A small cry escaped her captive mouth and another followed as the gown fell away completely. A consuming fire burned inside her, and her back arched towards him.
She felt him pause, and her skin longed for his touch.
She opened her eyes and saw him remove his shirt.
She gasped for air, seeing his bare torso; shyly, she stretched her hand to touch him, but he impatiently kissed her again while his body brushed over hers.
His hands moved even more daringly along her body, now fully exposed to his passionate exploration.
Then his urge seemed to subside; he allowed her a moment of rest as he removed a few strands of hair from her face.
“You are so beautiful, my love…so beautiful…”
She only smiled and licked her suddenly dry lips; his thumb gently brushed over them, and he leant atop her again.
“Let me know if you wish me to stop,” he whispered.
She felt him remove his trousers; then his caresses conquered her body again.
“Why would I want you to stop?” she asked, uncertain whether the words were spoken aloud or only in her mind.
He freed her from the nightclothes; then, carefully, his body covered her as he pulled a sheet up to cover them.
There was nothing left between them now —skin against skin, heart to heart, passion with passion.
The feeling was so intoxicating that Darcy trembled in anticipation, his long caged yearning screaming for fulfilment.
Yet, his pleasure meant less to him than hers.
He felt her growing desire and her sweet body craving his touch.
Her moans begged for more, and his hunger for her became unbearable.
His hands hurried to reveal the last secrets of her body, and his lips readily followed, tantalising the softness of her breasts and tasting their sweetness; her cries of delight pleaded with him not to stop.
He sensed her warmth and wished to touch the core of it, so he gently caressed her hips then stroked her legs; her thighs locked, and he paused a moment until he felt her relax, then his hand continued its conquest. Soon, no opposition remained, and he dared move his fingers a little higher.
He felt her shiver and heard her pleas. His mouth hungrily captured her other breast, and she cried again, quivering.
It was still not enough for either of them.
With an urge he had never felt before and with a hunger growing stronger, he wished to feel and taste every inch of her.
So his lips abandoned their sweet captive and followed the trace of his hands, savouring everything he had previously felt until her fingers tightly entwined in his hair and her body shivered in fulfilment.
For Elizabeth, the world vanished when the sweet, unimaginable rapture filled her body.
She needed some time before she dared open her eyes and look at him.
His gaze was darker and more burning than ever.
He covered her face with small kisses as she averted her eyes, not daring to wonder what had happened.
“You smell of lavender and love,” he whispered, his lips tenderly touching hers again.
“I dreamed of you so many times, but my imagination was poor…”
“I never dreamed of…never…” she whispered.
“Then we shall learn together what we did not dream before, my beloved.”
His caresses renewed, and Elizabeth surrendered completely.
This time she thought she knew what to expect. When his hand stroked her thighs again, they parted, and her heart raced with anticipation.
She closed her eyes, but his lips tantalised her ear as he begged, “Please look at me, my beautiful wife.”
She did so, though her eyelashes felt heavy.
He was lying atop her, their faces merely inches apart.
Unleashed passion darkened his eyes and made her shiver, but the lust became tenderness as he smiled at her.
Elizabeth’s body opened to him, just as her heart and mind had done only a fortnight ago.
She felt him enter her with a sharp, brief pain and overwhelming desire.
The pain soon vanished, but the ardour continued and grew until it overwhelmed her, and together they found fulfilled, blissful happiness.
They remained embraced, unwilling to separate, breathing each other’s scent and wondering at sensations new for both of them, although in different ways. They knew there was more to come —more to discover, more to learn from each other and with each other. Together.
Beneath the light of the moon and the stars —after a year filled with restless nights, resentment, anger, and guilt —Mr. and Mrs. Darcy finally fell deeply asleep. No dream bothered their rest as they needed nothing but each other.
And the only thing that interrupted their sleep —quite often that night and in the nights to come —was their unbridled passion.