Part Five
ALL HER MATERNAL FEELINGS
Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet attended Jane and Elizabeth’s nuptials to Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, respectively—the wealthy gentlemen who had caused such a stir in the neighbourhood just over a year earlier.
The final days leading up to the blessed occasion, however, had been in Elizabeth’s mind a torment brimming with uncertainty, nervous anticipation, and a longing for her betrothed that she could scarcely deny.
Such had been all that as well as a particularly embarrassing moment when it was all Elizabeth could do to maintain her composure when her mother took Jane and her aside and explained what was expected of them in the marriage bed.
Elizabeth was certain that if what her betrothed had taught her to expect was true, and she strongly suspected it was, then her mother was woefully misinformed.
On this occasion, Elizabeth thought it best to keep her supposition to herself.
Though she would have gladly confided in Jane all that had transpired when she spent the night behind a locked door with Mr. Darcy, she truly did not have the words to describe her experience aptly.
Because Jane did not ask, Elizabeth said nothing at all.
Indeed, if anyone knew Mr. Darcy had spent the night at Longbourn, the knowledge went unspoken.
To Elizabeth’s chagrin, the remaining time was spent in company awash with her aunt Philips’s vulgarity, her mother’s absurdities, and her father’s scrutiny.
No one was more pleased by the arrival of Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam than was Elizabeth.
Having formed an acquaintance with the latter whilst in Kent, and having met him subsequently in London, Elizabeth was certain the amiable gentleman would be well received amongst her Hertfordshire acquaintances.
The arrival of her aunt and uncle from town rendered her satisfaction complete.
However much it could be said that Mrs. Bennet was happy to get rid of her two most deserving daughters on that blessed December day, happier still was Mr. Darcy.
The wedding breakfast had barely got underway before the Darcys were in a luxury barouche on the road to town.
Darcy was eager to have his wife all to himself.
Hence, they were to spend their first week as man and wife in his London home before journeying to Pemberley.
The scheme necessitated a return trip to Longbourn Village where he intended to squander as little time as possible before whisking Elizabeth away to Derbyshire.
Georgiana had formed a steady acquaintance with Mary and Kitty through the frequent exchanging of letters during the past weeks.
And as Elizabeth had subsequently received her own correspondence from Lydia—lamenting how she and her dear Wickham would not be there for the nuptials and decrying their lack of funds as the reason—Darcy was persuaded to allow his sister to remain at Longbourn with her companion until he and Elizabeth returned.
The arrangement also suited Elizabeth, for it pleased her husband immensely and allowed her to spend time with her most beloved sister, Jane, and enjoy a proper good-bye with her Hertfordshire friends and relations.
The past weeks of courtship had taught Elizabeth to relinquish a bit of her fierce independence and put her unwavering trust in her husband, as evidenced by the blindfold fashioned from one of his crisp white cravats that she had allowed him to tie in place over her eyes.
What’s more, she had promised not to peek unless or until he granted her permission.
This was not at all as she had expected for her wedding night.
Although she rather suspected her mother’s advice had been wrong, she was wholly surprised to be in such a situation as this.
Her spirited sense of adventure would not allow her to protest.
Elizabeth’s hand fastened around his muscular, protective arm as he held the other in his tender grip and slowly coaxed her, one tentative footstep after another, until they had walked for some distance.
Having no notion of her surroundings, the warmth of the fire and its smooth crackle further soothed her inhibitions.
Her senses heightened by lack of sight, she appreciated even more the soft silky feel of her negligee against her skin.
She perceived with utter pleasure the fragrance of freshly cut flowers and hints of oranges and lemons lingering in the air.
When Darcy assisted her in seating, she traced her fingers along fine leather—a deep rich burgundy, she surmised.
She drew an excited breath. Do I detect vanilla?
Elizabeth exhaled. How I love the taste of vanilla.
“Prepare yourself for something wonderful, my love,” he whispered. The sound of his voice and the soft touch of his fingers upon her lips made her shiver.
Eager to accept whatever tantalizing treats he had in store for her, Elizabeth opened her mouth and received his offering.
Hot steam caressed her lips, and for a moment, she supposed he was serving her tea.
Slowly she sipped. Not tea. Arresting impulses stirred her.
All at once, a burst of ecstasy exploded in her mouth.
Her heart pounded against her chest. She swept her fingers through her loosened hair.
Whatever this is— A blissful surge washed over her. I want more.
“Did you enjoy that?”
Elizabeth’s soft moan signified the depths of her pleasure. She traced her tongue across her lower lip, moistening it, and savouring every lingering taste of the divine gift her husband had bestowed.
“Here comes another.”
Not knowing was simply too much for a woman of Elizabeth’s constitution to endure.
Filled with wonder over what had been the means of such intoxicating joy, she ripped the blindfold from her head and tossed it aside.
“That was by far the most delectable thing I ever tasted in all my life. Pray what is it?”
“Mrs. Darcy! You promised you would do as I told.” After setting aside the cup, Darcy brushed his finger along Elizabeth’s chin and peered deeply into her eyes. “So much for the vows you swore just this morning. You do recall: to honour and obey.”
She darted her eyes. “We have the rest of our lives to dwell upon all that. Now, I have more urgent matters to attend.” A silver tray fully laden with fresh oranges, lemons, grapes, even a pineapple—a particular delicacy that was not to be found at Longbourn during any time of the year—lay before her.
She reached for the porcelain cup, caressed it with both hands, pressed it to her lips, and took a sip.
Her senses awakened once again, only this time with more intensity than the first. Parts of her ascended the physical world … piercing another realm. “What is this?”
“It is chocolate, my love. I thought surely you would have had it before, albeit not as potent as this. I had this blend imported from—” His words melded into the background as Elizabeth took yet another swallow, closed her eyes, and allowed her sensibilities to take her where they would.
If that be over the edge of the plateau looming inside her, so be it.
At length, his voice pierced her exhilarated oblivion. “I know what you are thinking.”
Supposing the intense satisfaction she derived as the sumptuous brew unleashed ripples of excitement—a literal explosion of delight that started in her mouth and cascaded all over her body—was uniquely and incandescently her own, she opened her eyes and regarded him with unabashed wonderment.
How can he possibly know what I am thinking when I hardly know myself? She asked him as much.
“First, you are meditating on the pleasures to be enjoyed from a cup of steaming-hot, rich, luxurious chocolate.
You are wondering how something so seemingly simple as this can have the power to summon tiny swells of delight that promise to explode into thousands of waves of overwhelming pleasure all over your body …
from your mouth to your arms, your legs, and the tips of your toes.
“What is more, you want to upbraid yourself for having gone all your life and never having partaken of such a pleasurable, one might even say decadent, experience before. Even now, you are scarcely listening to a word I speak. Your mind is intent upon one thing: your undeniable, dare I say inexplicable, craving for your next mouthful.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard. It is as if he knows things about me that I have yet to comprehend myself. Oh, the number of occasions she had forgone this heavenly drink and chosen instead her favourite hot tea. “Indeed.”
His wife’s flushed skin and the gentle rise and fall of her bosom filled him with anticipation and aroused his hopes. He leaned nearer. “I will venture further to say that what you felt is nothing in comparison to what I have in store for you, my love.”
Her present circumstances easily persuaded her that she had sufficient cause to doubt the veracity of his claim.
Yes, she enjoyed his kisses immensely, and she dared not deny the awakening of desires wholly unfamiliar, albeit pleasant, to her whenever she was in his arms, especially the evening spent behind the locked door.
However, this rich confection more than quenched a thirst she never even knew she had—hers was an experience mere words could scarcely describe.
What more can he possibly have in store that might tempt me to forsake this wonderful treasure?
In the blink of an eye, Darcy swept Elizabeth up in his arms and stepped away from the table. A frisson of panic, akin to being separated, perhaps forever, from a most beloved companion, erupted deep inside her. “Pray, do not forget the chocolate!”
“I assure you, Mrs. Darcy, by the time this night is over—” His warm breath caressed her ear. “Chocolate will be the furthest thing from your mind.”
Thank you so much for spending time with these stories. Your support and enthusiasm mean the world to me.