Chapter 65
The rest of the household slept badly that night and, consequently, nobody came down for breakfast. Mrs. Reynolds gave orders to clear the tables when it became clear that nobody would appear.
The servants obeyed enthusiastically; the leftover bacon, kippers, sausages, toast and all manner of tantalising foods would not be wasted once they made their way back into the servants’ quarters.
By the time the bells started to ring, the cook had prepared a tray for each of the ‘fine, lazy things’ and the maids began to take them up. The post arrived just as the Darcys rang their bell, so the letter was tucked beside the teapot and sent on its way.
Elizabeth was awoken by the smell of fresh tea and a badly suppressed chuckle. Surfacing from her soft blankets, she rubbed her eyes.
“What is it?” she asked blearily, “What happened?”
“I did not mean to wake you.” Darcy said, looking guilty, “I am sorry, Elizabeth.”
He sat beside her on the bed and handed her a cup of tea and the letter which he had just been reading. It was written on such thick, expensive paper that it seemed to weigh more than the cup! It was addressed to Darcy in an ornate, old-fashioned hand.
“Unless you have a second rich, ostentatious female relation that I do not know about, may I assume that this is from your aunt?”
Darcy smiled crookedly. “It is. You can read it.”
After a sleepy mouthful of tea, Lizzie carefully unfolded the pages.
My dear nephew,
While it would be correct for me to express gratitude for your invitation, I cannot in good conscience do so. Nor can I accept any offer to attend a gathering where I might be exposed to the kind of wicked debauchery that has been your constant companion these eighteen months at least.
However, I do appreciate your efforts towards reconciliation.
Your apology, while long overdue, was both heartfelt and sincere.
I acknowledge that this is proof of some maturity - and a marked intention to improve yourself.
I congratulate you on the attempt. I shall therefore make a similar effort and will arrive at Pemberley the day after your hedonism concludes to discuss this further.
There is another matter, nephew, which has made this visit far more important than our petty disagreements.
I have heard rumours that Georgiana is very unwell.
I know that the gruesome details my maid has relayed cannot possibly be correct.
You would have informed me at once! Yet the accounts trouble me, and I must have answers.
In particular, I have today received communication that I know to be false, but I cannot possibly deny it without knowing the truth for myself.
You will oblige me in this. Pray tell my niece that she must remain at Pemberley until I arrive. I know that she often absents herself from the estate when threatened with a large gathering. This time, I must insist that she suffers your excesses for my peace of mind.
I will stay in the Amber Room.
C
A swirling, unreadable squiggle signed off this arrogant letter. Elizabeth folded the wad of paper up again, with far less care than before. She disliked Lady Catherine’s supercilious tone immensely.
“Lydia is in the Amber Room. Lady Catherine cannot have it.” she said flatly, “I did not read much worth laughing at, Darcy.”
“Not even my hedonism? My debauchery?” Darcy raised an eyebrow as he took the letter back, “Does my aunt know something of your arrangements for the ball that I am not privy to?”
“Oh.” Lizzie shook her head with a small, awkward laugh, “No, it is ridiculous. I did not know if you were offended by it, so I did not find it amusing.”
“I was certainly supposed to be offended!” he replied easily, “My aunt supposes that I spent all of my time in Meryton in dark, dingy public houses, surrounded by gamblers and prosti… with ladies of ill repute. She has no notion of reality, only the world that comes from too many novels and a lurid imagination. The lady is also utterly incapable of self-awareness. I have seen her drink herself into a stupor, but she would be offended to be described as drunk. She only imbibes, for she is far above us all. I drink, because I am a drunkard.”
“Then, in this strange story she imagines about you, where do I fit in? I am one of the ladies of ill repute, I suppose, for who else would spend time around such a wretched man?”
“I highly doubt that my aunt is picturing you as a…” Darcy said drily, then choked back a laugh as a new thought occurred to him, “This will come as a blow to your cousin. He had his own story, didn’t he, of my aunt descending upon Pemberley like the wrath of God.”
“She still might, albeit a day later than he hoped. She does not sound very compassionate.”
“Oh, that is just her way.” the man said dismissively, “She conceals her true thoughts, but she does feel things deeply.”
“That sounds familiar.”
“Do not pull that face at me, Mrs. Darcy! I am not like that!”
Elizabeth smiled and finished off her tea, letting her raised eyebrows give him all the answer he deserved. Darcy rolled his eyes.
“How do you have the energy to tease me as soon as you wake up, madam? Can you not wait until after breakfast?”
“I have had my tea.” Lizzie replied peacefully, “The teasing shall continue, my love, until you wish me a good morning. A cup of tea and an unhinged letter will not suffice.”
“She is not unhinged.”
“Ah, but her letter is. She knows nothing of your struggles, yet makes such lurid accusations! Yes, I say that the letter is unhinged, and I stand by it. If you wish to argue with me, sir, then I fear you will have to… what was it? Expose me to debauchery?”
“That is how I always say good morning.”
“Well, yes - but not for the benefit of your aunt, I hope!”
“No, my love.” he laughed, taking the teacup from her unresisting hand, “It is just for you.”
Lizzie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew him down to her.
“Three days.” she breathed in his ear, then nipped wickedly at his throat.
Darcy caught her at once and pulled her upright, kissing her with dark, demanding promise until she moaned against his lips.
“Damn my aunt,” he growled, “Damn her timing! I had not planned to let you leave this bed for days.”
“Let me?” Lizzie raised an eyebrow breathlessly, “I am not so easily constrained, sir.”
“I think you might be, Mrs. Darcy. We shall see. When your legs are trembling, angel, and your dear voice is hoarse from crying out in pleasure…” he ran his hand deliberately down her throat and cupped her breast, catching her sighing lips in a lingering kiss, “I do not think you will want to leave.”
Elizabeth shivered. It took a great deal of effort to find any words at all, least of all the kind of pert retort she longed to make.
“How… how thoroughly you have planned this, my love. This is the first I am hearing of it! How bad you are for thinking such wicked thoughts alone. I shall refuse to cry out, just to spite you.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” Darcy pushed her back firmly against the pillows and placed her hands on either side of her head, “You will cry out, angel.”
“I shall not be intimidated by you, sir.”
“Very well.” he laughed and tapped the end of her nose. “Keep your hands there, angel, and let us see if you can keep your word.”
Darcy pulled her nightdress slowly above her thighs with teasing, deliberate laziness.
His fingers, warm and gentle, brushed against her skin as if by accident, tickling and caressing in infuriating measure.
When he met Elizabeth’s wary gaze again, his eyes were as black as night.
“Bite your lip, Lizzie. If you make a sound, then I shall stop. We shall see how stubborn you truly are.”
“I shall not…!” she repeated, then gasped when he suddenly tore her nightdress apart, exposing her breasts. “Darcy!”
“That is a terrible start.” he growled, kissing her with blinding haste. His breath was harsh and hot against her skin when his hands began to move. “Say my name again, my love.”
She shook her head emphatically, glaring at him playfully, and pressed her lips tightly shut.
Her husband chuckled and returned to his delicious torture.
During their many nights together, he had learned many things about her body that even Elizabeth had no notion of.
She was baffled to discover that her skin could become so sensitive, or that the lightest touch on the nape of her neck made her shudder with desire.
It felt quite peculiar to inhabit a body which did not bend to one’s own will!
Her body, it seemed, preferred another’s command. As pert as her words always were before they undressed each night, Elizabeth could not help but obey.
But no, she would prevail! She would not cry out.
Elizabeth bit her lip, muffling her moans with her trembling fingers as her husband devoured her with his eyes and his hands.
She could not do it. She was not stubborn, she could not be spiteful.
She could not deny him or the greedy pleasure that her body ached for.
When he thrust his fingers inside her she arched up, twisting her hands into the pillows with a helpless groan.
The sound was made; her eyes opened in a mute, desperate plea: don’t stop.
He did not. His hand moved again, more insistently, making electrifying jolts of pleasure lash through her with every pulse.
Lizzie clutched at his shirt, desperate to kiss him, sobbing his name and begging, pleading for release just as he had wanted.
Darcy laughed and kissed her fiercely, thrusting faster and harder until she let out a sobbing cry and quivered around his intimate caress.
“There.” he murmured, stroking her most sensitive part as she writhed helplessly against him.
“That is half of it, my angel. In three days, I shall show you the rest.” he kissed her tenderly, stroking her damp hair away from her flushed forehead.
“By the time you meet my aunt, Mrs. Darcy, you shall be thoroughly debauched.”