Chapter 3.6
Minutes later, the carriage stopped in Park Lane before an impressive town house. Elizabeth glanced outside while Darcy stepped out and took his wife’s hand.
Elizabeth’s steps became hesitant as she gazed at the building that was now her home.
Being in London for the first time in her new position, Elizabeth felt less at ease than in the past. It was not a period of amusement and entertainment but one of responsibilities and duties that began that day and would continue for the rest of her life.
She briefly wondered about the number of servants in the house and the manner in which they would receive her.
What did they know about her? What did they think about the master choosing a wife outside his circle?
Would they compare her to Lady Anne Darcy?
Of course, they would. But could she ever be the equal of such an illustrious predecessor?
Darcy wrapped his arms around her. “What is it, my dear? Are you well?”
“Nothing…yes, I am well. I am just trying to become accustomed to all this. I know there are many obligations associated with my position as Mrs. Darcy. Seeing your house, I am more aware of how unprepared I am for such a role.”
He kissed her hand. “I heartily disagree. Nobody could be more suited for that role. Any details you do not know, you will quickly learn. Mrs. Talbot will be at your disposal, and I am certain the entire staff will adore you as much as I do—well, not quite as much, I hope.”
She laughed nervously and gazed at him lovingly.
“Come, let us enter. I hope you will approve of our home.”
In the hall, Mrs. Talbot, the housekeeper, had gathered the entire staff. With some uneasiness, Elizabeth noticed there were eighteen people, all waiting in line.
Darcy made the introductions, and then Mrs. Talbot presented them one by one to Elizabeth. They were all of different ages, responsibilities, and seniority in the family but equally nervous and worried about meeting the new mistress.
Elizabeth greeted each of them warmly, and everyone’s faces gradually lit with relief. At the end of the line, Elizabeth’s new maid, Sarah, was introduced—a young woman of around twenty years, flustered and barely breathing from apprehension.
The meeting ended, and all returned to their duties, but Mrs. Talbot continued to talk as she followed the master and mistress on their way to their apartments.
“Oh, and Lady Matlock sent two notes yesterday and two today, asking about your return. And Miss Darcy—we were all so worried about the storm. Thank God you arrived home safely.”
“Mrs. Talbot, we are fine, I assure you,” Darcy said, smiling.
“Please inform my sister and my aunt that we are fine. I shall give you a short letter to deliver to Longbourn by express. In the meantime, we shall need to refresh ourselves then eat and rest. Everything else will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“I shall take care of it right away, sir,” the good lady responded hastily.
“Mrs. Talbot, please return to your duties. I know the way.” Darcy continued to smile. “Tell Sarah that Mrs. Darcy will ring for her when she is needed.”
“Oh yes…of course.” The housekeeper finally understood and stopped following them.
Moments later, Darcy stopped in front of the middle room off the long hall. He smiled and briefly kissed her then pushed the door open.
Elizabeth glanced inside, her heart racing at the beautiful sight. Then she gasped when Darcy grabbed her in his arms and took her inside, shutting the door with his foot. She laughed and held on to his neck.
“This is how I intend to hold you for the rest of our lives, Mrs. Darcy—in my arms,” he whispered.
“And this is where I feel I belong, my dear husband.”
A kiss was shared before he put her down in the middle of the chamber.
The place was spacious and impressive in its elegance but warm and inviting.
Among the beautiful furniture, a vase of red roses added colour and liveliness to the room.
It was the first thing Elizabeth touched.
In a corner, her luggage was neatly arranged.
“What do you think of your apartment? Here is the cabinet…and there is the dressing room. And here is the door to my apartment,” Darcy said enthusiastically, inviting her to look around.
She stepped shyly, glanced at his chambers that were equally elegant but with a manly touch, and then looked at her husband.
“I think everything is beautiful—just beautiful.”
“You may change anything you wish,” he insisted. “Nobody has lived in your apartment since my mother passed away. If anything is not to your liking—”
“Everything is beautiful just as it is. The apartments are perfectly matched in furniture and arrangements.”
“I am glad you approve. We shall take a full tour of the house…later. For now, we should eat something and then rest. I want to be alone with you, as we should have been yesterday.”
“I need no rest, dear husband—just to be with you.”
“I hoped you would say that, my love. To be honest, I intend not to leave our chambers again until late tomorrow. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Perfectly acceptable.” She laughed then blushed.
A discreet knock interrupted them, and Mrs. Talbot, Stevens, and Sarah appeared in the doorway.
“Sir, may we come in?” the housekeeper asked. Behind Stevens, Elizabeth spotted the servants with large kettles of hot water and trays of food.
Darcy beckoned them in. With perfect efficiency, they divided their duties between the master’s and the mistress’s chambers, preparing baths in the dressing rooms.
Reluctantly, Darcy moved to his own apartment while Elizabeth remained with Sarah and Mrs. Talbot, glancing at the door that closed behind her husband.
“Mrs. Darcy, Sarah has never been a personal maid before. I have tried to instruct her, but time has been short, and there are still many things she needs to learn. If you prefer, we can hire a more experienced maid, and—”
“Mrs. Talbot,” Elizabeth interrupted her with a smile. “I am sure everything will be fine. Sarah and I shall learn together, and I am certain we shall get along just fine.”
“Very well, ma’am,” the housekeeper said while Sarah finally seemed to breathe.
Less than an hour later—her clothes arranged in closets and drawers, clean and relaxed after a lovely warm bath, and dressed in the most elegant nightgown from her trousseau—Elizabeth Darcy stood at the window, waiting.
From time to time, she glanced towards the door where her dear husband would appear.
She sat on the bed for a moment but impatiently rose again. She wondered whether she should knock to indicate she was ready. She did not know what the custom was, but she had insisted many times that she did not care about rules.
She moved to the window again, staring at the cloudy sky.
“You look stunning, Mrs. Darcy—absolutely stunning,” came a dear voice, and she turned to meet the eyes that were already caressing her.
∞∞∞
Darcy had quickly cleaned himself then hurried Stevens to shave him, wondering why his valet was suddenly moving so slowly.
When he was finally ready, he asked not to be disturbed again unless something truly urgent occurred. He wrapped himself in his robe and knocked at Elizabeth’s door, but no answer came. He entered carefully and stopped in the doorway, dizzied by the beautiful image that met his sight.
Elizabeth understood his silent admiration, and a smile twisted her lips as she moved towards him.
In an instant—no more than a few heartbeats—they were together, their hands touching. On the table, the tray of food and drink was waiting, but another sort of hunger and thirst needed a bit longer to be satisfied.
Hand in hand, they moved to the bed; he removed his robe, then hers, and together they lay upon the pillows. Each caressed the other’s beloved face and gazed in the other’s eyes, soul meeting soul.
He briefly touched her lips with his then traced warm, soft kisses down her throat.
With all the time in the world, he was able to keep his urgency under control.
He could not afford to be hasty. His primary concern now was her wellbeing, her comfort, and her pleasure.
His would come from hers and be satisfied in the days to come.
Elizabeth demanded a more passionate kiss, and Darcy allowed her to take the lead, their tongues quickly finding each other.
His hand cupped her breast through the soft gown.
She moaned, enjoying his touch, and his caress grew more intense.
His mouth left hers and tantalised her other breast. She let out a little cry and rolled on her back, offering herself to his tender strokes.
Hands travelling hastily along her body, he caressed her with a tenderness that soon grew into ardour.
He rolled over until he was entirely upon her, his body heavy on hers before he supported himself on his elbows.
Her hands quickly clasped his hair while her mouth was trapped again in his kiss.
Her breasts were delightfully crushed against his chest, and his hips pressed against her thighs.
She felt his desire growing harder, as his body slowly brushed against her.
“I shall lose my mind if I delay any longer,” he groaned against her lips. Moans were her only reply, and she attempted to reach down between their thighs.
“Fitzwilliam, I want to touch you too,” she begged through their kisses.
“Later, my love, later. Let me do it for now, I beg you. I want to touch, to feel, to taste every part of you.”
She heard and understood his meaning. Her mind and body knew what to expect and waited with impatient desire.
Darcy rose to his knees, grabbed the lower part of her nightgown, and lifted it to her waist. He hastily parted her legs, lying atop her again. His face reached her breasts, and the touch of his fingers, his lips, and his tongue were neither patient nor gentle but driven by a more demanding urge.
Hands and lips together ventured down, caressing her ribs, her belly, her navel, then lower, over her hips and her thighs.
She vividly remembered his touch from the previous night and held her breath in anticipation.
It was not in vain. His fingers slid towards her warm core and gently pressed her thighs apart even more.
She cried his name, hoping that somehow he would extinguish the fire inside her.
But it only grew and burned her completely when she sensed the softness of his lips upon the warmth between her legs.
If two nights ago, the torturous movements of his fingers taught her what pleasure meant, his mouth now forced her to bear much, much more.
“Fitzwilliam, please…” she begged, grabbing the sheets with her fists while she moaned unconsciously.
She bit her lips hard when she felt his tongue exploring her core, tasting her in a way her mind dared not admit but her body craved.
He gently conquered her inch by inch with insatiable hunger until a deep moan escaped her mouth as she struggled for air and shattered violently.
Tenderly, his caresses crept up her body. His lips returned to taste her breasts, her arms, her shoulders, and her throat then stopped to tantalise and bite her ear.
She turned her face so her lips could meet his, and he lay atop her again between her parted legs then abandoned her mouth to kiss her closed lashes.
“My love, open your eyes. I want to see you as you become my wife,” he said, and she struggled to obey.
Neither heard the knock on the door, or if they did, they did not care. But the sound increased until it could no longer be ignored.
Darcy frowned; he became livid then red with fury.
He looked at his wife, who tried to catch her breath, then slowly moved to sit beside her on the bed.
“What is it?” he yelled angrily.
“Sir, I apologise for disturbing you,” the valet’s desperate voice was heard.
“Stevens, speak no more. Has someone died?” Darcy asked sharply.
“No, sir, but—”
“Is someone bleeding to death?”
“No—”
“Then be gone before you are in that situation!”
“Sir, I beg your forgiveness, but your uncle is here—Lord Matlock. He received the news that you have returned and has demanded to speak to you urgently. I told him you could not be disturbed, but he the said it is the middle of the day and you would surely want to speak to him. It seems a grave matter.”
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, puzzled, his mind still addled from their interrupted passion. He knew his uncle would not be easily deterred. He wondered whether he had any choice, and which would be more quickly resolved.
Elizabeth sat by his side, worried by his obvious concern. “What could be the problem?”
“I do not know, my love. But I had better go, see, and be done with it. I shall return in no time.”
She nodded, and he put on his robe, quickly arranged his appearance, and left. She fixed her own clothes and began to pace the room, uncertain about her duty at such a moment. He said he would return soon, so she had to wait for him.