Chapter 2.11
The journey from Hertfordshire to London was pleasant but distressing for the newly-wedded couple.
The colonel and Georgiana joined them and, while they loved them both dearly and they enjoyed pleasant conversation, the company allowed them no privacy.
Eventually, the carriage stopped—first in front of Georgiana’s house, then the Matlocks, and finally at Mr. and Mrs. Darcy’s home.
Their reception was formal and festive, with Mrs. Holbert—the housekeeper—leading the row of servants waiting in the main hall.
Although Elizabeth had made their acquaintance only two weeks ago, the arrival of Mrs. Darcy was a moment of celebration to which both Elizabeth and Darcy gave full consideration.
“Mrs. Holbert, is everything prepared as per my request?” Darcy asked as they walked towards their apartment.
“Of course, sir. Sarah will be Mrs. Darcy’s maid unless she prefers otherwise.”
“I am sure Sarah will be an excellent choice,” Elizabeth said.
“Then please ring when you need assistance,” the housekeeper concluded before she excused herself.
Darcy let his bride inside; her chambers were lit by several candles; on the small table by the window, a bouquet of red roses were shining.
On the bed, several nightgowns and robes were spread, drawing Elizabeth’s attention and making her blush.
“Mrs. Gardiner chose the gowns and sent them,” he explained, much to her astonishment. The gowns looked daring and revealing, and she wondered how they would even stay on her.
“Your bath is prepared,” he added, showing her the adjoining room with a tub in the middle. Do you need anything special?” he asked, and she shook her head in denial, nervous and slightly lost.
He noticed and embraced her. “Elizabeth?”
She lifted her eyes to him.
“You must not worry; nothing will happen unless you are ready and willing. I only wished you to feel comfortable, after an exhausting day,” he said, placing several tender kisses across her face.
“Oh, I am not worried about that,” she replied. “And I do not doubt your words. It is just that … today, Elizabeth Bennet has changed places with Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. I feel strange… A little sad, a little happy… but nervous, nevertheless…”
“I am so sorry, my love, I had not thought of that,” he said. “Perhaps because I have never thought of changing Elizabeth Bennet for anyone. Just to have her sharing my name. And my life.”
A bright smile made her eyes sparkle.
“You are a wise man, Mr. Darcy. And I love to hear you call me ‘my love’.”
“Then you shall hear me saying it quite often.”
They shared a passionate kiss, then he suddenly separated from her and hurried to his room, holding her hand.
“I almost forgot. Come, let me show you something.”
Surprised, she followed him. In his chamber, on a table, by the window from where Hyde Park was in sight, a rich dinner was waiting.
“This is for a little later. Or would you rather eat first? Are you hungry?” he enquired hastily, and she laughed as she noticed he was as nervous as her.
“No; I would rather have my bath now and eat later.”
“Excellent,” he said. He opened a drawer near his bed. In it, Elizabeth easily recognised the pile of papers she had found in the grass. The papers that carried his secret passion, now free to be released.
“You said you wished to read them someday. They are here for you.”
She touched them with trembling fingers. It seemed a lifetime since she had found them, although it had been only a month ago.
Then she closed the drawer and looked at him.
“I am counting on you to show what you have written in those letters,” she whispered daringly. Heartfelt delight appeared on his face and his adoring gaze lay on her.
“I promise. Everything that is written there, and much more,” he said, kissing her hand as he led her back to her chamber.
∞∞∞
In her apartment, prepared for the night, Elizabeth was waiting.
Sarah, the maid, had just left. She expected Darcy to appear. The hot weather had calmed her. She was wearing a silky nightgown, that felt as soft as a caress on her skin. Her hair was falling loose down her back.
She looked at her image in the mirror, anxious.
“Mrs. Darcy…you are more beautiful than I have ever dreamed,” he said.
He wore nothing but a night robe and the image made her flustered. It was the first time she had seen his bare neck. His hair was more curly than usual, and his face, freshly shaven, was wearing a large smile.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” he offered.
“No…”
“A bit of port, maybe?”
“No, thank you.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No…” she whispered. “Not yet.”
She sat on the bed, and he joined her.
“Are you hungry?” she whispered.
“Only for you. If you will have me,” he whispered hoarsely.
She smiled, and leaned back on the bed, into the pile of pillows, and stretched her hand out to him.
He removed his robe and joined her, covering himself with the sheet and pulling her towards him.
She moaned sweetly and cuddled up to him.
He briefly touched her lips with his then traced warm, soft, gentle kisses down her throat.
He began kissing her, gently, tenderly, then, as he felt her respond, more passionately.
Slowly, he laid atop her, crushing her with his weight. The feeling was overwhelming and his face, inches away from hers, made her dizzy.
“I am intoxicated by you,” he said. “I have been starving for you for so long.”
He kissed her again, but to her disappointment, it did not last long.
His mouth abandoned hers and travelled down from her chin along her throat, tasting each spot of her bare skin.
He carefully lowered the gown from her shoulders and she shuddered.
The gentle, tentative touch of his fingers over her breasts startled her, and she moaned loudly as her back arched towards him.
His caresses became more passionate, tracing torturous circles until his palms cupped their roundness possessively.
She was lost, astounded, fearful of the intensity of the sensations and hoping for more.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, then his mouth resumed its journey and his lips closed upon her breast. His tongue traced a burning line over her skin, exploring and tasting greedily.
His hand explored further, stroking her legs and then travelling upwards, pressing gently between them.
Instinctively, her thighs locked together.
He lifted his head to look at her, while his hand continued its conquest. Carefully, his strokes tantalised her legs and parted them slowly.
Soon, there was no opposition left and, to Elizabeth’s shock, his hand moved a little higher.
A cry was crushed between her lips, while she tried to clasp her thighs shut again.
She heard him whispering her name, then his mouth hungrily captured her other breast and she gasped again as her entire body arched.
For a moment, she thought this could not be happening; but an instant later, any reasonable thought vanished as waves of pleasure violently exploded in her body.
Long moments passed until she had the strength and the courage to open her eyes. He was smiling, and she forced a smile in return.
He covered her face with small kisses while she averted her eyes. Her mind was screaming that what happened was mortifying, while her senses enjoyed the blissful pleasure she had just experienced.
“You are more beautiful than I have ever dreamed, Elizabeth,” he whispered.
He rolled until he was completely upon her, and he supported himself on his elbows to allow her to breathe. Her breasts were still crushed against his torso and his hips pressed against her thighs.
Still shivering from the pleasure that lasted inside her, she felt him growing harder.
His fingers slowly slid between her thighs, caressing her, then gently pressed her legs apart even more. She breathed deeply, waiting. A fire was burning inside and she hoped he would cool it.
“I am afraid it will be painful at first,” he said, and she nodded, then closed her eyes, waiting.
“Open your eyes, my love. I want to see you,” he begged. She did so and he continued, “I want to watch you become my wife.”
His hand gently brushed between her thighs and his hardness pressed against her core; she ceased breathing, fearful and anxious, and opened herself to him.
He entered her gently, slowly. She gasped and her body arched, as she struggled to hold his gaze.
His hands grabbed hers, entwining their fingers in a tight grip. Her body instantly stiffened from the pain, stronger and sharper than she expected, and a cry escaped her lips.
“Oh, God, my love,” he moaned with delight. He remained still, breathing steadily, his eyes caressing her face.
“You are mine now. Completely mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing over hers.
“I can feel you as a part of me.” He was completely inside her, filling her with burning heat and powerful passion.
“Is it very painful, my love?” She silently denied it, trying to smile at him. It was painful indeed, but the joy of becoming his wife made it worthwhile.
He moved slowly, watching her face carefully. He knew it was painful for her, he could see it on her beautiful face, but he could also see her delight.
“I love you so much, my beautiful wife,” he said.
The urge almost overcame his patience, and he struggled to control his movements, to be gentle for her.
She moaned from the painful pleasure building inside her, and her fingers caressed his handsome face. “I love you,” she said for the first time, with all her heart, her eyes sparkling.
Her body moved tentatively beneath him. His slow movements soon became faster, deeper, stronger.
Ecstasy, possessiveness, abandon, tenderness, and passion seemed to grow every moment in astonishing repetition.
After a seemingly endless time, he finally reached his long-desired completion and his moans covered her soft cries.
His body shuddered while warm waves spread inside her trembling body.
Eventually, exhausted in their happiness, tightly embraced and breathless, they lay next to each other in complete happiness.
He tenderly kissed her hair, and she cuddled in his arms.
“I do love you,” she whispered. “I have known that for a while, I truly love you,” she said.
“I know…I feel it,” he replied, embracing her tightly and caressing her hair until she fell asleep, wrapped in her husband’s love.
The elegant, tasteful dinner was forgotten on the Darcys’ wedding night.