Chapter 36
The housekeeper and the servants were lined up waiting for the mistress and master.
On behalf of the assembled servants, Killion congratulated the mistress and master on both their nuptials and elevation, and in that order as he knew that the former was the true source of happiness for his long-time master.
Darcy said a quiet word of thanks while his wife thanked the servants for taking time out of their day to greet them and added that she looked forward to getting to know all of those with whom she was not already acquainted.
Lady Pemberley asked Mrs Killion to have a tray and a bottle of red wine sent up to the master’s suite.
To the delight and cheers of the servants, the master swept his wife up in his arms as he strode up the stairs to their apartments.
Both elected to take a bath, not together, although that was a wish that would be fulfilled in the near future.
Her husband asked her how long she needed; she informed him that she would require about an hour.
He shared that he would wait in the suite’s sitting room where the tray and wine would be delivered.
After her bath infused with her signature lavender scent, her maid helped her dress in the sheerest of silk night gowns that shimmered in the candlelight and left little to the imagination.
She then donned a green robe and matching slippers.
The new wife dismissed her maid, telling her that she would ring early in the morning when assistance was required.
Elizabeth slowly approached the door that was ajar and led to the sitting room.
She pushed it open and the view of her Adonis of a husband took her breath away.
He was in a pewter-grey banyan, loosely tied at the waist and open enough to reveal that he wore no shirt only breeches; no stockings or shoes.
She had never seen a man barefoot before; the sight of her husband’s large feet excited her.
In the ‘V’ made by the garment she could see his chest muscles and the downy covering of dark chest hair.
He was all muscle and built like the statue of David that Michelangelo had created.
She remembered seeing a facsimile in the Royal Museum.
Staring at her husband she could see what a body like that would look like and why it had inspired such a work of art.
From the occasions they had gotten carried away she knew that her husband’s appendage was far larger than the one that had made an eighteen-year-old young lady blush furiously when she saw it on the sculpture.
For his part, Darcy thought that the world had stopped spinning on its axis and that he was floating in the heavens as that was the only plausible explanation for the angellike beauty walking toward him.
She looked like a goddess with her hair down and flowing over her shoulders and down her back.
He could not count how many times he had dreamed about running his fingers through her tresses unimpeded.
She wore a robe, but he could see the tops of her perfect white breasts through the sheer garment she wore beneath it, though the robe hid the rest from eyes starving for her.
He thanked God for granting his prayer! Darcy acknowledged that none but God the Father and His Son could be perfect, but she was perfection for him; the only one that he could have loved.
He swore an oath to love and respect her until he drew his final breath and for all eternity.
All thoughts of eating were banished as he stepped to her and their lips met with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
Their tongues were soon entwined as they danced the dance of love and passion.
He pushed the robe off her shoulders and she let go of him so it would slip off and pool on the rug at their feet.
She undid the knot holding his banyan closed.
As soon as she succeeded, she pushed it off his shoulders and it dropped to the floor and he kicked it away.
If he had thought she was alluring before, the vision before him stole his ability to think straight.
He slowly looked her over from head to toe as she waited, unashamed that her husband was drinking in his first sight of her body.
As he lowered his head he stopped as he revelled in the sight of her pert breasts that he could now fully see through the very sheer material.
They were a nice size, not too large, but bigger than what most thought was a fashionable size.
As he was appraising his wife, she was doing the same to him now that he was standing in nothing but his breeches.
She looked from his noble chin down his strong neck, how she wanted to kiss that neck, and then the magnificent torso.
His body was a testament to the fact that her husband was not a man that did no physical work.
His muscles were well defined and toned, and as her eyes travelled the perfect lower triangle of hair down as it invites a woman, she saw the bulge of his erection.
She knew that his gentleness would be infinite unless she let him know that she was willing to jump off the deep end of passion with him.
Darcy’s eyes wandered lower down her flat tight belly and finally saw all of her; his eyes lowering to her thighs— they were not clamped together as he expected them to be.
He looked forward to exploring her, and finding out everything that gave her pleasure.
Yes, the books and discussions with Andrew and Richard, while mortifying, had been very educational.
They came back together by instinct as if they were two opposite poles of a magnate that needed to connect.
He kissed her furiously and moaned when she gave as passionately as she accepted and he lifted her in his arms, using his foot to open the door to his bedchamber he placed her on her feet in front of his massive bed—the one that she had not been able to forget since her tour.
She reached out and undid the buttons on his breeches, watching with fascination as his manhood was released from the restrictive clothing; he stood naked before her.
He lifted her sheer nightgown up over her head as she helped by raising her arms. He appreciated the unimpeded view for a second and then lifted her up and placed her on the satin sheets as the counterpane was already pulled back.
“William I am ready to be your wife in all ways,” she pleaded.
Although this moment may be painful but beautiful, he could never deny her anything. He was thrilled to find his wife ached to become his as much as he needed to make it so.
“William,” she whispered up into his lips as he lowered to claim hers and at last their deepest needs were met.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The Marchioness of Birchington woke up well before the sun in the early morning hours feeling not just a little sore and stiff from the multiple times that she and her husband had coupled celebrating their vows between the afternoon and their wedding night.
It was well past midnight when Hugh had cried mercy and pulled her into him so she could rest her head on his chest.
“I must be the luckiest of men, as most would have to coax their wives into the marriage bed. I have to beg to be let out of it for sustenance so I can perform in it!” He chuckled as she nodded, lifting so she looked at him, her chin resting on his chest as she met his eyes.
“I could be meek and shy, if you like.” She pretended to pull away and trailed her fingers down the outline of his thigh then started to glide them up his inner thigh. “Can you explain what this is…” she asked softly.
“Minx!” he growled, pulling her back into him and pinning her under him, proving to them both exactly what it did before he let her up, saying he had intended to bathe with her but now that they had twenty minutes less than expected, he would save the pleasure.
Mary’s laugh followed her out of his chambers and into hers, and he loved that she did not feel like she had to fully get dressed to then undress, that his robe was enough. He loved the look of her in his robe.
As Mary bathed, she couldn’t help but smile.
There had been some pain and blood as promised would occur for her first time, but each subsequent coupling had been easier, although she was feeling pain from stretched muscles that had not been exercised before.
Mary blushed as she wondered anew how she, who used to be the plain, forgotten, middle Bennet daughter married such a man, and how she loved him.
Lady Mary Rhys-Davies could not get enough of her husband.
Each time they coupled was a physical validation of the immeasurable depths of their love.
After a long and relaxing bath, Reid assisted her with dressing and put her hair up for travel and laughed. Mary arched her brow and Reid showed her Hugh’s marks when he had thoroughly explored her neck and left marks that showed his devotion to his exploration.
“A choker today, I believe,” Mary smiled sweetly.
“I agree, and if you could restrict him to these specific two inches or a little lower so it is hidden by the dress, I will need to use less concealing powder,” Reid informed her mistress.
“Do I have any?” Mary frowned.
“Oh yes, my Lady, I have all you will ever need for any occasion,” she hugged her mistress’s shoulders then she dabbed a light concealer and put on the choker.
Happy for her Marchioness, she helped ready her to take the world by storm.
Reid believed that her mistress deserved all the marital felicity in the world.
Not many moments later Lady Mary joined her husband in their sitting room. They descended the stairs to have a quick light repast while their trunks were loaded onto the carriage while it was still dark outside.