Chapter 2.3
On the third day of their marriage, the Darcys woke around noon and were still reluctant to leave their apartment. Eventually, Elizabeth insisted they should have breakfast downstairs.
“I think the servants should see us—if only for a little while.” She laughed and blushed at the implications of her words. “I do not even dare imagine what they must think has happened to us.”
“I am sure they imagine something very close to the truth: we are a couple who married for love and wished to protect their privacy in the first days of their marriage,” Darcy said before kissing her hand.
“And no, the servants need not see us. There is nothing we should do out of concern for anyone else. But I agree with you about breakfast. Besides, I am quite hungry!”
“Yes, so am I.”
He gently kissed her cheek, glancing at the trays of food that remained untouched from the previous night. “This time, I am hungry for food…”
“Yes, so am I,” she answered daringly despite her still-crimson cheeks.
The delicious breakfast was much enjoyed and praised to the satisfaction of Mrs Hamilton. The master and mistress were informed about the courses selected for dinner, and they both approved them although they barely paid attention to the subject.
Afterward, the couple retired to the library. Darcy declared he wished to look through some papers and invited Elizabeth to choose a book and keep him company.
“Is there something urgent you need to attend? I imagined you had been neglecting your business lately with all the problems caused by my family.”
“No, I only need to review some papers sent by my solicitors.”
She glanced over his shoulder. “May I help you in any way? Can you tell me more about it?”
He was surprised by her request then pulled up a chair for her.
“I am afraid this is quite boring for a lady, but I would be happy to explain it to you. Here is where we register everything related to our income and expenses. For each tenant, we have separate records. For instance, these calculations are for Mr Benton and his family…”
Two hours passed as Darcy shared all sorts of details related to his estates, things Elizabeth had never heard before from her father—whose interest and diligence in the management of Longbourn were significantly lower.
She was equally curious and content to hear everything her husband had to say, and with each word, she found more reasons to admire him.
Finally, Darcy started writing a letter to the Pemberley steward while Elizabeth walked around in search of something to read.
“I was astounded by this library the first time I saw it. I felt too overwhelmed to select one book.”
A mischievous smile spread on his face. “I vividly remember the first time you saw it. And the second time.”
She blushed then shivered. Yes, she also remembered every moment of that time.
“The day after Lydia’s elopement is fresh in my mind. My heart still aches from that pain…the pain that I might have lost you forever.”
“I could not imagine you would think that,” Darcy answered, taking her in his arms. “I thought my feelings for you were already clear at that point—as well as my intentions.”
“They were…but I did not dare hope you would overcome the horror of becoming so closely related to Wickham…that you would still make me an offer despite my sister’s elopement…”
“It seems, my love, that my feelings and my intentions were not clear to you at that point. If they were, you would not have doubted them.”
“Perhaps my mind did not dare believe what my heart already felt—and hoped for,” she said, returning to him. He gently pulled her onto his lap and closed his arms around her.
“Enough of sad memories, my beloved. This is such a wonderful day—the perfect day for me. The peace, the silence—and you by my side.” As he spoke, his lips moved closer and touched her earlobe. She shivered, and her fingers slid through his hair.
“I perfectly understand your meaning. I imagine how pleasant it is for you to be away from the din at Longbourn.”
“More so, from the din at Netherfield. Although it might have been less noisy than Longbourn, it was certainly more irritating. I hope Bingley will settle new rules for his sisters once he is married. But I wonder what was in his mind to schedule the wedding in three months’ time. Three months?”
“He and Jane are more patient—and surely more proper—than we were. Three months is a reasonable engagement time. Besides, there will be some lovely weeks for them to know each other better, to become accustomed to being together. I am sure Jane would enjoy being courted by such an amiable and handsome gentleman.” Elizabeth laughed while Darcy lifted his eyebrow in challenge.
“There is no better time for a man to court the woman he loves than after they are married. For instance, if we were only engaged, I could not do this,” he said, claiming a kiss.
“I hope you do not regret that I insisted on having such a short engagement,” he whispered, brushing his fingers along her throat then touching the roundness above her dress.
“I do not regret anything you insisted on doing…” She slowly leant back, waiting—hoping—to feel his lips on her skin.
He tantalised her with gentle caresses, pleased to hear her soft moans, until he forced himself to stop, his hand lingering on her half-bare shoulder.
“We should go upstairs,” he said hoarsely. “Unless you wish to finish selecting a book…”
“Yes…no. We should go upstairs…”
“Or I could just lock the door so that nobody disturbs us…”
Elizabeth looked at him in disbelief—uncertain whether he was speaking in jest—her breathing heavy, her lips red and moist. He pushed the dress down from her shoulder and tasted the soft skin then gently bit it; his strong palm cupped her face, holding her head to bear his gaze.
“So what would you prefer, Mrs Darcy?”
“Upstairs…” she said, her mind trying to imagine how it would be if she chose otherwise.
He kissed her hand and attempted to rise when a vigorous knock on the door startled them.
Elizabeth turned pale, struggling to stand and arrange her appearance, her heart beating rapidly. What if they had continued their…activities…and a servant had discovered them!
Troubled, she glanced at her husband who seemed rather amused, no doubt by the same thought.
As if to prove her wrong, the knock repeated, but the door remained closed. Only when Darcy called the person inside did Miles enter hesitantly and hand his master a letter.
“It is from Hertfordshire, sir. Otherwise, I would not have disturbed you with it.”
“Thank you.”
Elizabeth barely dared to lift her eyes to the valet, but his expression was as calm as ever.
His only concern seemed to be to serve his master and gain his approval.
Undoubtedly, no member of the staff would ever dare enter a room where Darcy was without permission.
There was no danger from that point of view, but the thought of locking the library door—as Darcy had suggested—turned Elizabeth’s cheeks red with shame and left her wondering.
“Let us see what it says… Here—this is a note for you from Jane. Very considerate of her—Bingley’s letters are rarely readable.”
Elizabeth laughed and sat on the settee, pulling the candle closer. She barely had time to look at the first lines when Darcy interrupted with enthusiasm.
“So—Bingley finally came to his senses. It seems the wedding will take place in six weeks after all.”
“Yes, Jane wrote me the same. I am very happy for them,” Elizabeth said, but her husband pulled the paper from her hand quite unceremoniously and sat beside her.
“Since there is nothing urgent, we can speak of this later.”
Elizabeth laughed within his kiss, and her hands encircled his waist.
“We should read to the end, though,” she whispered, but her suggestion met with little attention.
Darcy blew out the candle near her, and the room was suddenly half-dark.
They were both sitting, and he gently pushed her back then lowered to meet her eyes—and her lips.
Small kisses covered her face, tantalised the corner of her mouth, then the tip of her ear, her jaw, her chin, and then returned to her lips.
“You must believe I am a savage, but I can think of little else than kissing you…touching you…tasting you…loving you. I know a gentleman should possess better control, but I have lost it…completely.”
“You are not a savage…” she murmured. “And you know that I think of little else but you too. A lady should also possess more control.”
Darcy smiled at her willingness to share the blame with him and ended the debate with another passionate kiss.
“You are right. Let us finish reading our letters, and then perhaps we can take a stroll near the house before dinner.”
“That is an excellent idea,” Elizabeth said, but—to her mortification—she found herself disappointed at not following his first plan.
She scolded herself for such wantonness while trying to concentrate on the letter—filled with more feelings and confessions of happiness than with information.
“If the weather turns better, Jane said she will come to Town for a week. She wishes to order wedding clothes. Perhaps I could schedule a visit to the modiste after she arrives…”
“My beloved wife—I trust you will find the best way of solving this problem. I am sure Lady Ellen will be happy to assist. As for me—I am ready to provide any support you might need, but I do not require further details.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You sound like Papa when he speaks of lace, and you are only half his age.”
“I am uncertain whether I should take that as a compliment or a censure. However, I doubt any man—whatever his age—has much interest in modistes or lace. We prefer to admire the final result of these efforts.”