CHAPTER 44 Ceremony and Honeymoon
Thus, it was that Elizabeth Bennet Darcy found herself in the mistress’s chamber in the early afternoon of her wedding day, after having changed into a nightdress and robe.
She turned around slowly in the room, taking in each detail.
The walls were papered in pale gold with white stripes and the wainscoting was painted in a creamy white.
Her large four poster bed was made of light wood and had cream coloured beddings spread upon it.
There were also vases of roses set all about the room - Pemberley’s Fitzy’s Little Rainbow - suffusing the air with their scent.
Overall the effect was light and lovely, and reminded her of a warm summer morning.
She stepped up to the window and stared at the still lake further down on the lawn, reflecting a cloudless sky. She was at Pemberley now, and married. I am Mrs. Darcy, she told herself with an inward smile, scarce able to believe it. Perhaps it would take years before she did.
She leaned lazily against the casement and wondered when her husband would make an appearance. She did not have to wait long for, when she next turned around, Elizabeth saw that he was already there.
He paused at the entrance to her chambers and studied her for a moment, a faint smile gracing his lips.
She stood still, appreciating his lean form and ever handsome face, made more so by the look of tenderness she saw in his eyes.
Nevertheless, she felt a little embarrassed and subconsciously drew her robe a little closer to herself.
“Elizabeth,” he said, then wordlessly stepped up to her and took her in his arms.
His kisses were gentle and his touch light.
She became caught up in them, losing her embarrassment and pulling him closer.
He pushed her against the casement, continuing his slow and deliberate caresses.
She had a sense that they had all the time in the world, that for once, no one expected anything of them.
Soon, he had unbuttoned her dress and lifted her up, placing her on the side of the bed and continuing his languorous touches.
He only wore his breeches now, and a white lawn shirt with the cravat undone.
He smiled again and held off all movement for a few seconds, seeming to take in the sight of her. She hoped she did not disappoint.
Elizabeth returned his smile then pulled gently on his undone neck cloth, bringing him closer. This seemed to enflame him and his movements became more urgent.
“It is not even dark yet,” she said absently, tilting back her head and enjoying his breath against her neck. “What will the servants say?”
“Do you really care?”
She shook her head and chuckled. He pushed her down onto the bed and she closed her eyes. Moments later, she felt the mattress sag slightly as he knelt on the bed beside her. His touches recommenced.
Elizabeth Darcy thought no more of the servants that afternoon.
She awoke hours later, and saw that he was still asleep.
She was his now in every sense, and luxuriated in the knowledge of it and the warmth of his body beside her.
The sun was still high in the sky and she surmised that it was some time in the mid-afternoon.
Her hair was mussed and she felt lazy. Hungry as well.
She stared at him for another twenty minutes, studying the contours of his face and the slight stubble that had developed on his cheek.
And then her stomach growled and his eyelids flew open.
“Elizabeth,” he said lazily.
“My love.”
He smiled and kissed her. “I take it you are hungry?”
She nodded, still smiling. (It seemed that she could not stop smiling, her happiness threatening to overflow.)
He pulled himself up and leaned against the headboard, pulling her against his chest. He yawned, then asked, “Are you well?”
“I am. Extremely well.”
For a while they lay in bed, propped up against the headboard and did nothing more.
Elizabeth had nothing in particular to say and so remained silent.
Unfortunately her stomach growled again.
He kissed the side of her head then stood up, completely unclothed.
Elizabeth took the opportunity to admire his form before he shrugged into his robe and tugged on the bell-pull.
“Shall we go for a walk after we eat? he asked.
“I would like nothing more.”
They ate lunch in their shared sitting room, still in their robes. Meat pies, fruit tarts, sandwiches. Cream puffs, chocolate covered strawberries, orange and blueberry scones. They drank wine, tea, ratafia, and lemonade.
Afterwards, they drifted out onto the balcony and admired the view of the lake and lawn that expanded outward into woods and rolling hills. The trees were in full autumn foliage, their leaves in shades of deep red, orange and gold.
Half an hour later, they walked beneath a hanging wood, along a path that bordered a small stream.
They talked of everything and nothing in particular.
They made plans for the upcoming holidays and what they would do that evening.
They found a little patch of grass beside the stream and sat underneath a tree, alternately kissing and talking.
They even fell asleep there for a short while, tired from their heavy meal.
But when they awakened and kissed again, the kisses turned more passionate.
So they returned to the house once more, locking the doors to their suites and taking their ardour to its natural end.
They had a light repast of fruits and sweet wine then fell asleep again in each other’s arms.
“I feel that I have been remiss in my duties as hostess,” said Elizabeth lazily when Darcy joined her before dinner that evening as she sat at her vanity.
“Really?” he said with a mischievous smile. “And do you feel that Jane would have wanted you with her while doing whatever it was she was undoubtedly doing today?”
“Mr. Darcy!”
He shrugged, in no way apologetic. “I doubt that Bingley misses me at all. And I should think he would be thankful to be left alone with his new wife.”
“Yes, I suppose you have a point,” she responded, turning in her seat and wrapping her arms around his waist.
“I like your dress,” he said.
She looked down at her bronze-coloured taffeta dress and the gold necklace with ruby gem at her throat. “I shall allow you to remove it later,” she said playfully.
"I look forward to it," he responded.
After dinner that evening, the ladies retired to the drawing room, allowing Elizabeth to ask her sister how she fared.
“I could not be better, Lizzy. And you?”
“Pretty much the same, dear sister.”
They sipped their sherry and Elizabeth thought about the past spring, when she had been so ill and awoke to find that her wishes of having Jane nearby had come to fruition.
“I never did ask you, Jane - though I have been meaning to - how did Bingley ever convince you to come away to Rosings with him with nothing more than a maid? I would think that our uncle would not have allowed it.”
Jane nodded and looked thoughtfully towards the fire.
“I never did tell you, Lizzy, but last winter in London was one of the saddest times in my life. I had gone there, you see, full of sanguine hopes. I thought that when I saw Caroline and Louisa again, our friendship would continue and that I would somehow encounter Charles again. But, when they did not return my call for another two weeks, I began to lose hope. Even more so when they eventually did arrive but stayed no more than a quarter hour. They told me that Charles was too busy to join them and that he was frequently at Mr. Darcy’s home, calling on his sister.
“I was heartbroken and felt like a fool. To have thought a man like that could ever love me when, naturally, he would wish for someone…better. I wrote you letters but never told you how I truly felt. I supposed it would fade one day, that I would be back to my normal self eventually. But unfortunately that did not happen. I felt sorry for myself and barely ate. My aunt grew fearful and threatened to tell you and Mamma about it. So I began to put on a semblance of complacency just so she would not write to you. But all I wished to do was lie in bed all day and cry.”
“Oh, dearest, I never knew!”
“How could you? I never told anyone about it.”
Elizabeth shook her head and held Jane’s hand.
Jane took a fortifying sip of her sherry and continued.
“And then one day there was a knock on the door and Mr. Bingley appeared in the drawing room.
You do not know how shocked I was. He spoke of how ill you were and how Mr. Darcy had sent him to collect me in order that I might tend to you.
Uncle did not believe him at first, accusing him of making everything up for some nefarious purpose of his own.
But then Bingley mentioned the letter from Mr. Darcy, and he and my aunt conferred for some time in his study, leaving Bingley and myself alone in the drawing room.
“I must say that I was confused. I thought, you see, that he was there for me. But he was only a messenger, and a way of transporting me to you. But still, I knew that I wished to go - if only for your sake. But it was awkward, standing in the drawing room with him. I completely forgot myself, not even offering him any refreshments. He kept staring at me and I could not even look at him.” Jane sighed.
“Eventually my uncle came out and agreed to let me go, telling me that my aunt could vouch for Mr. Darcy’s family, who were well known in Lambton where she had grown up.
But Uncle insisted on sending a maid with me.
He was also introduced to Dr. Stephens, who came down from the carriage to meet him, and who also vouched for Mr. Darcy’s integrity.
I begged Uncle to let me go, telling him that I would never forgive him if something happened to you because I was not there to help you.
In the end, he had no choice but to agree. ”