Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
It was a long and weepy night for Elizabeth. I ruined our wedding night. The refrain circled endlessly through her mind, and by the time dawn came, she knew she must speak with him about what had occurred.
She knocked on his door, but he did not answer.
His man said he had awoken early. Marshalling her courage, she went to find him and met with success in the breakfast room.
He was grave and quiet as he rose and helped her to sit, and they remained quiet until the footman departed, leaving them alone.
“Are you well?”
His solicitude caused tears to threaten immediately, but she tried to smile. “I am so sorry.”
“Please do not apologise.” He spoke in low but earnest tones. “I cannot know how this affects your spirits, but I am glad to give you time to become accustomed to being a wife again.”
Her face flushed red with embarrassment. “It was not that.”
“What, then?”
She hesitated, her mortification looming large. “I believed I understood…it was so different than…some of the places…when you would…I felt such odd feelings, almost an illness or a fever, and…”
“Did I hurt you?” His expression had moved from concern to alarm.
“No, it did not hurt. In truth, it was pleasant—almost too much so, if you understand me.”
Darcy continued to appear confused.
She sighed and dropped her face into her hands. “I do not wish to be vulgar or uncouth, but I cannot explain it otherwise.”
“Shall we go to your private sitting room?” he asked in a voice that showed his trepidation.
She stood, and their breakfast was forgotten. He followed her on what seemed an interminable walk until they were at last within their chambers and assured of privacy.
With a sombre countenance, he said, “May I say one thing first?” On her nod, he continued, “I apologise, quite heartily. I believe I was so determined to bring you to pleasure that I was overeager and too zealous, and I did not realise you had grown uneasy.”
“You need have no regrets. This is entirely my fault. I am sorry I ruined our wedding night.” Her words were full of emotion, and he touched her hand gently.
“You ruined nothing.”
“I was anxious because I thought I understood what to expect, but it was different—vastly different—and I just did not…I tried to calm myself, but I did not know what I should do.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I assumed far too much. I anticipated some hesitation regarding your feelings but not for the physical act itself. I went too quickly.”
Elizabeth laid her hand gently against his face and shook her head as he once again offered, “We shall wait until you are more comfortable with me and our marriage.”
“No, we need not—”
“I think we should.” She understood his view of the matter. Last night had been dreadful for him, and the last thing he could want was to repeat it.
Some words he had spoken earlier were echoing in her mind as she considered the unusual manner in which he had phrased them. She was determined not to fail him again, and she gathered her courage to ask. “Will you clarify something for me? Something you mentioned before?”
“Of course.”
She blushed hotly but remained determined. “To bring me to pleasure.” Determination failed her at the last, and she looked away quickly.
When her gaze returned to him, she saw he was confused.
“It has been my teaching and my experience that a lady’s pleasure lies in pleasing her husband and in the possible creation of a child.
” If it were possible, her face grew hotter.
“It would seem that nothing of last night had to do with either of those things.”
Something shifted a bit in Darcy’s eyes. She could not quite make him out, but she was glad to see less disappointment and something like relief in its stead.
“You do not mean…you do know a lady may have the same pleasure as a man.”
She had no response to that.
“The feelings of pleasure and release occur for both man and wife.” He paused and then asked, “Has that not been your experience?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth but did not know how to answer the question. “Henry was a very good, very traditional sort of gentleman.”
Darcy stared at her blankly.
“Things…transpired as my mother explained they would: mostly clothed, under blankets, and in darkness. It was generally brief, and I felt…” She paused, the awkwardness of their boldly honest discussion coming upon her. She put her hands over her face, unable to look at Darcy.
He leant closer to her. “Please tell me.”
Her voice was small. “Everything was agreeable. Sometimes there was a pleasant, warm feeling but not like last night.”
“I see.” Darcy pulled her hands from her face, forcing her to look at him, and gently kissed them. They sat there for a moment, hearing the household around them.
After a short pause, he said, “It need not be so. I love you, and I wish you to have every manner of pleasure in this as in all aspects of our marriage. However, I will not make you anxious or afraid over it. If you wish it to be for us as it was for you before, so it will be, but first, give me a chance to show you how enjoyable it can be.”
“I…I do not know if—” She stopped.
“I can think of no better method to show my deep and abiding love for you. Why would I wish you to be denied of something so wonderful when it is within my power to give to you?”
I cannot disappoint him; or rather, I cannot disappoint him again.
“In any case, once you realise what enjoyment we might have together, you will scarcely be able to keep yourself from me.”
It was a little tease, but in the anxiety of the moment, it made her giggle wildly. “I fear I might become rather…discomposed.”
“I would count it an absolute success if I might see to your discomposure. In fact, I wish for nothing more than to discompose you completely—several times, perhaps.”
She giggled again, anxiety making her sound somewhat maniacal. “Oh, I do not know about that.”
“I do know. Will you permit me to show you?”
“Well…what if…I do not…what if I cannot bear it?” She giggled again, hating her nervousness.
“I shall stop whenever you wish. Just forget about whatever you knew previously. We shall make our own way in this.”
She laughed again, hardly able to look at him. He awaited a response, and she nodded.
“Excellent.” She peeped at him, and he gave her a broad, pleased smile. On impulse, she quickly kissed him, causing his grin to grow broader. He is so handsome when he smiles.
He kissed her back and then became aloof. “Do you require your maid? I can assist you if you would like.”
“Require my…do you mean now?”
“Are you otherwise engaged?”
“No.” She giggled. “Are you?”
“What could be more agreeable than to spend the day delighting my wife?” He then stood, taking her hand and leading her into her bedroom.
The rumbling of her stomach woke her. Elizabeth came into consciousness gradually, seeing by the light that it was already late afternoon, possibly early evening.
It astonished her to realise how little she knew of the marriage bed. I am fortunate Fitzwilliam has shown himself an able tutor.
She had decided that she must approach intimacy as any other accomplishment in which she wished to become proficient.
Rather than allow her mind to worry or feel unsure, or think of Henry and what was past, she dove into her present circumstance with as much enthusiasm and willingness to learn as she could muster.
Thus, when Darcy had undressed her, she followed his lead and undressed him as well.
She had needed his assistance with his cravat, but otherwise, she had managed well, save for accidentally tearing a button from his trousers.
He made a little joke about telling the gentlemen at his club that she had literally torn his clothing off—which, in truth, she knew he would never do—causing them both to laugh, and that too relaxed her.
The day had been spent in rapturous, unrestrained amour.
Much of what Darcy suggested had shocked her initially, but he had seemed so happy with her pleasure that she could not deny him.
Although Darcy had more than amply proven his assertion that a lady could experience the same heights of pleasure as a man, he had also shown her that, in his capable hands, she might experience it far more frequently than he could.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Darcy.” He rolled over, coming awake as slowly as she had and reaching for her before his eyes were fully opened.
She grinned like a fool. “Good afternoon, Mr Darcy.”
“You are hungry, I think.” He smiled lazily.
“Oh, did you hear that? How mortifying!”
He had rolled towards her and began kissing her neck. “We have eaten very little these two days past.”
“And exerted ourselves much,” she teased. “At least these”—she leant to see the clock on the mantle—“eight hours past.”
“Eight hours!” He was mockingly horrified. “I did not realise we had been here so long. I am afraid I am woefully behind.”
“You are?” She quickly sat up, swinging her legs around and reaching for her dressing gown. “I would not take you from your duties.”
Sitting up behind her, he wound his hand around her waist and slid it up to caress her breast. “Perhaps I had better explain the nature of my obligations before you leave me with such haste.”
“Very well…” She felt an immediate response to his touch.
“You will recall, I think, when we were first in here this morning. I believe I had pleased you a bit, and you gratified me by saying my name in a way that I enjoyed immensely. It was rather less speaking my name than moaning it.”
She was close to moaning again, but instead, she breathily whispered, “Yes.”
“If you recall, I vowed I would cause you to do that at least once an hour, and now we have slept for over two hours, causing me to be three short of where I must be to remain on course.”
“Three!” Elizabeth half laughed and half moaned. “I shall not prevent you from tending to your duties, sir.”
He laughed, gently tugging her back onto the pillows.