Chapter 24 #4
“We all knew this would happen sooner rather than later,” the colonel burst out.
“God have mercy on his soul, but he was always mindless and careless, looking for trouble and surrounded by the most worthless people. We are all sad and shocked, certainly, but this could have been easily anticipated and not prevented.”
“I know you are correct,” Darcy replied.
“God knows that more than once I said I would kill him with my bare hands. But now I cannot help but feel sad and somehow guilty. It might be because my life is so happy, so complete in the most beautiful way. I have been so fortunate while he had such bad luck…”
“That is nonsense, Darcy,” Lord Brightmore intervened. “Your present happiness is not a matter of luck but of wise choice, hard work and struggle. Wickham’s tragedy was also a matter of choice—of different choices.”
“I agree,” said Mr Bennet. “We should pray for him; there is nothing else to do…”
Elizabeth’s appearance in the doorway turned the gentlemen’s full attention towards her. She stepped to her husband, who hurried to take her hand and offer her a chair.
“I only came to inform you that everything has been settled; everyone is resting in their rooms and dinner will be ready in an hour,” she said gently then glanced at her husband and whispered, “I will go to Georgiana now; I think she needs me.” Darcy only approved silently and then kissed her hand with gratitude.
With a small, warm smile, she left the library, followed by the gentlemen’s gazes.
“Mrs Darcy seems to fit perfectly at Pemberley,” Lord Brightmore said kindly.
“She does,” Darcy replied. “Elizabeth is the most astonishing woman. She has brought so much joy, warmth and liveliness to Pemberley…and she has already become accustomed to all her duties. And Mr Bennet—I can only say how amazed I am at how quickly Elizabeth learns everything related to business. In truth, I feel blessed and fortunate; there cannot be a better wife nor a better mistress than Elizabeth—as my housekeeper insists.” His enthusiasm was boundless as he spoke of his wife.
He noticed Mr Bennet’s moist eyes and contented smile, then he suddenly met Bingley and Lord Brightmore’s gazes and wisely added, “All three of us have been extraordinarily fortunate in choosing our wives.”
“So you have been,” a voice said from the doorway, and everyone turned to greet Lord Mattock’s unexpected presence.
“Darcy, would you care to share that brandy, or do you keep it for yourself?” the earl inquired then turned to Bingley.
“How are you, boy? I hope you are making Jane happy; I will ask her—depend upon it.”
Bingley, unexpectedly at the centre of attention, almost choked on his drink while Mr Bennet and the younger gentlemen began to laugh.
Sometime later, everyone retired to prepare for dinner—except Mr Bennet, who remained a little behind. Darcy offered him another drink, but Mr Bennet refused.
“Darcy, I only wished to tell you how impressed I am with everything I have seen so far…and to thank you for your care. Our family has much to be grateful to you for.”
“Please do not speak of that, sir. I am pleased you approve of Pemberley. I hope you know you may consider it your home and do anything that pleases you. Tomorrow I have planned a full tour of the house. Also, we will take a ride around the park; we have horses and phaetons prepared for everyone if the weather permits.”
“That sounds an excellent plan. Please reserve me a seat in the phaeton with Lizzy.”
“Actually, sir, I think Elizabeth would rather ride.”
“Lizzy is riding? On a horse?” Mr Bennet inquired with disbelief, and Darcy laughed.
“Indeed she is; in fact, she is an excellent rider—and a very competitive one.”
“That is quite astonishing. I cannot even imagine what other things she has learned since she married,” Mr Bennet said, and Darcy turned towards the window to hide his suddenly red face.
After that exchange, Mr Bennet went to his room and Darcy in search of his wife. She was not in their apartment, so he knocked on Georgiana’s door and found them together, speaking on the settee, holding hands. He embraced his sister, asking how she was.
“I am fine, Brother, thank you. I was telling Elizabeth how happy I am to be home.”
“We are happy, too; we missed you dearly.”
They spoke for some time then separated to change for dinner and reunited later in the large dining room, more crowded than it had been in many years.
The dinner went as perfectly as expected, and the exquisite courses were associated with—mostly—pleasant conversation.
Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley expressed their opinion about recent events, and they did not forget to point out that Mr Wickham had been a favourite of the entire Bennet family, who surely must suffer the loss.
Mrs Bennet did not hesitate to praise Mr Wickham’s amiable manners and his handsome appearance while Lydia continually repeated what a wonderful rider her husband was and how all the ladies envied her.
A few minutes later, however, Mrs Bennet’s attention turned to the furniture and to the grandeur of the chamber, and Kitty impatiently asked if they would host a ball sometime soon, worthy of such a beautiful room.
Lydia argued that a ball would be completely inappropriate as her dear husband had just passed away and she would not be allowed to dance.
Mrs Bennet hushed them both and expressed her impatience to tour the estate the next morning, which surely was larger than “Meryton, Longbourn and Netherfield together” while she concluded that Netherfield was nothing to Pemberley.
Elizabeth froze in embarrassment, Jane turned pale, and only Mr Bingley hurried to agree with her, declaring he had always taken Pemberley as a model and was tempted to purchase an estate just like it.
After dinner, the gentlemen retired to the library while the ladies were left to themselves.
Miss Bingley lost no opportunity to ask Elizabeth how she bore the difference from the world in which she had been brought up and her new life.
She also inquired whether Elizabeth kept to her old habit of walking.
Though Miss Bingley’s malice was impossible to miss, Elizabeth tried to remain perfectly polite.
She cared little about Miss Bingley but was content to see Jane happy.
The very short time they spoke together was enough to understand that marriage suited her sister very well.
Mrs Gardiner was as elegant and beautiful as ever, though a little more restrained.
However, a significant improvement was easily observed in Miss Anne de Bourgh’s aspect and manners.
She seemed livelier, often showed a charming smile, and was less fearful to take part in conversation.
She seemed easy with all her cousins, as well as with Mrs Gardiner, and her behaviour towards Elizabeth was friendlier than ever.
The gentlemen seemed to get along very well together, but the stressful journey and the overwhelming events exhausted the ladies, who expressed their wish to retire soon, and they did so after a short farewell from the gentlemen.
Alone in her room after a day as long as an age, Elizabeth bathed with some haste then fell into a deep sleep for the first time in three days. She finally allowed her mind and her body to rest while, through the opened window, the summer breeze blew gently.
Close to midnight, Darcy entered the apartment, opening the door carefully; Elizabeth was sleeping in her bed her breathing calm and steady.
He gently caressed her hair and wrapped the covers around her.
Then he briefly washed and changed to his nightshirt then lay near her.
Her back was to him, so he spooned her, wrapping her in his arms; she sighed and cuddled closer.
He breathed deeply and moaned as her closeness aroused his desire.
They had slept like that—her body spooned within his arms—many times, though sleep was not precisely the fair word.
He smelled her silky hair and fondled her ear for a moment.
She moaned and pressed her back against him.
For a short while, as he saw her sleeping peacefully, enjoying the warmth of his closeness, he felt content that she was finally resting after such trying days.
However, his generous concern vanished in a moment when her bottom pressed against his thighs.
He nuzzled her ear and her neck as he lowered her nightgown and cupped her breasts, caressing her roundness with impatient desire.
She moaned and pushed against him harder.
“Are you tired, my love? Should I allow you to sleep?”
“I am very tired, but I miss you more,” she whispered, turning her head as she begged a kiss.
His lips captured hers while his hands adoringly explored every inch of the body he so dearly missed.
Her skin craved his touch; he pulled up the nightgown to her waist and one of his hands slid between her thighs, caressing her, as he well knew she liked most; then he entered her slowly, deeply, throbbing inside her.
Their moans joined in a passionate kiss.
“This is so good,” she whispered, and he bit her ear, thrusting deeper inside her while his hands travelled from her breasts—tortured by the pleasures of his touch—down between her thighs, tantalising the burning spot between her legs.
He never freed her lips from the passionate kiss; his hands became less gentle and more possessive, more conquering, more demanding, giving pleasure and taking pleasure from her while his thrusts grew stronger, deeper, and faster until pleasure overwhelmed their senses.
They fell asleep afterwards, but their passion and yearning for each other awoke them once again during the night. Luckily, the next day none of the guests left their rooms until very late, so nobody could complain that Mr and Mrs Darcy neglected their visitors by oversleeping.
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