Chapter 3.12
By the time Elizabeth and Darcy had dropped Georgiana at the Matlocks and arrived home, the dinner table had been already arranged rather festively, waiting for them.
They wished nothing more than to retire to their apartment and enjoy each other's company in privacy. However, out of courtesy for the servants who seemed so eager to impress the new mistress, they changed and returned downstairs for dinner.
Darcy was amused to see how carefully the maids were watching Elizabeth's every gesture and expression, to guess if she found the dishes tasty.
As he expected, Elizabeth was everything attentive and gracious, praising each course and sending her thanks to the chef. How could he ever have doubted that she could fit the role of Mrs. Darcy? There was nobody better suited than her, and she proved that every moment, with every small gesture.
After dinner, Darcy invited her to the library.
"It is time to show you the jewels. Lady Matlock's statement was appropriate, I should have done it when we arrived," he said.
"When we arrived, after two days on the road and one night at the inn, neither of us had any interest in jewels," she teased him, her cheeks burning at the forbidden recollections.
He laughed and claimed her lips while inviting her to stay in his chair, at the desk.
"I still have no interest in jewels, or anything else but you, my beloved," he admitted. Then he unlocked a large drawer, closed with two catches and from there he took out three velvet boxes.
"There are several others at Pemberley," he explained as he sat down near her.
Suddenly nervous, Elizabeth looked at him. He allowed her to open each box with shy fingers, lost in the beauty that lay before her eyes.
Each set consisted of necklace and earrings; one also contained a headpiece like a tiara, and another one a bracelet.
Elizabeth had never been impressed by rich jewels, as stunning as they might be when she saw them on other ladies. She did admire them, without allowing their value to affect her.
However, touching those splendours and knowing they would belong to her was an overwhelming sensation. Not because of their monetary value, but because they were the ultimate assets that completed Mrs. Darcy's image.
"This is the set Lady Matlock suggested," Darcy showed her the box with the tiara. There was a masterful creation of gold, small diamonds and little citrine stones, a perfect combination of shapes and colours, delicate yet imposing.
"It is beautiful, indeed," Elizabeth whispered.
"Yes. And it will complement your dark hair and brown eyes perfectly," he said, caressing her face.
His gentle touches warmed her inside. "We should follow Lady Matlock's advice. She has excellent taste," she said teasingly, while they engaged more and more in a kiss that they had longed for the entire day.
"I should put the jewels back, while I am still able to think properly," he said, separating from her reluctantly.
He put them back and locked the drawer, then returned to Elizabeth, who was still sitting in his chair.
"Should we go upstairs, Mrs. Darcy?"
"As you wish, Mr. Darcy."
"But what do you wish?"
"To be with you," she said, while he took her hand and led her to their apartments.
When they entered, he put his arms around her.
"I confess I was tempted to remain in the library… After all, we are both fond of it…"
At first, she missed his meaning. "Remain in the library? Do you have some unfinished business? I do not wish to distract you from your duties," she declared genuinely.
"You. You are my unfinished business, and my forever distraction, my beloved. Loving you is the most important of my duties."
"Oh …." Elizabeth whispered, suddenly struck by his meaning and blushing in anticipation. She thought of something to reply, but she was unsure about how to debate such a subject.
She turned in his arms, tenderly trapped within his embrace.
"Please let me know if I am imposing my will on you, Elizabeth…"
"Imposing your will?" she enquired, puzzled, her mind blurred by her own feelings.
"Yes… I know a gentleman should possess better control, but I have lost it…completely. I am like a savage, I know. I can think of little else than kissing you…touching you…tasting you…loving you."
"You cannot truly fear my wish is different from yours, husband. You must know I think of little else but you too. A lady should also possess more control. If you are at fault, so am I."
"I adore your willingness to share the blame with me my beloved," he said, then captured her lips again and carried her to the bed.
It was long after midnight when their passionate lovemaking left them lying in each other's arms, exhausted and fulfilled.
The blowing of the wind, rattling the windows, kept Darcy awake for a long while, enjoying the pleasure of holding Elizabeth to his chest. Her hair, soft and smelling of jasmine, flowed freely across her shoulders and his chest. How many sleepless nights he had spent alone, tormented, struggling with himself, dreaming of her, and how poor his imagination had been compared with the reality.
A year he had suffered for her and how greatly his turmoil had been rewarded.
Of all her qualities that he had long discovered, her love and passion for him, so openly displayed in every interaction, was a present granted to him most unexpectedly.
She was everything he had ever dreamed of and much more!
And he prayed that he would make her as happy as she deserved.
∞∞∞
The following morning, Elizabeth woke up earlier than usual, nervous about the day's schedule. Darcy was still asleep – which was rather unusual. The room was rather dark, as the heavy curtains were still pulled across the windows.
Just as Darcy had done on previous mornings, when he had been the first to awaken, Elizabeth took advantage of her husband’s peaceful slumber to admire him. His hair was in great disorder, his handsome face was wearing a smile, and the sheets had fallen from around him, revealing his torso.
"My love," she whispered, placing a soft kiss over his heart.
He moaned, and his body tensed. Elizabeth smiled, wondering at the strong effect her mere touch seemed to have upon him.
Her fingers slowly moved up to his chest, toward his shoulders, down his arms and rested upon his waist. He moaned again and with embarrassment, she saw his "arousal" under the sheet.
She had touched him briefly during their lovemaking before— but she had never been bold enough to look at it until now.
Flushed, daringly, she carefully removed the sheet, exposing him to her curious eyes.
She continued to stare; her first thought was that it looked somehow awkward and strangely large.
Then she heard him sighing in his sleep, as if he could feel her eyes upon him.
She looked at his face, admiring his handsome features for a moment, then her gaze travelled down again.
Only this time, it did not look either awkward or strange.
There was her beloved husband, lying peacefully in their bed.
The man whose love brought her so much happiness.
Soon, watching was not enough, and her fingers daringly followed the path of her eyes.
He moaned again and whispered her name in his dream.
Without much consideration, fighting the shame of her own daring and wantonness, she leaned near him — against him.
She placed soft kisses upon his heart, then on his neck, on his throat, on his chin, along the line of his jaw.
Her hand was now upon his waist and moved down to his hips while her cheeks burned.
She felt him shivering, and in his sleep, he captured her in his arms. She climbed upon him to reach his face, her breasts brushing against his chest, her moans matching his.
With tender curiosity, though shy and embarrassed, she finally dared to touch his manhood.
The sensation was different from that which she expected, and she tensed, remaining still for a moment. She heard him pleading and calling her name, and understood that her touch was as pleasant for him as his caresses were for her.
"My love, please," he whispered again, now fully awake.
His begging dissolved her hesitation and she resumed her exploration, realising that his body enjoyed and longed for exactly the same things as hers and that she could offer him the same pleasure he granted her.
She stroked and tasted his skin for countless minutes, just as he had done with her.
As he begged her for more, her own desire grew.
She felt his body quivering violently, then he unexpectedly stopped her, rolled her onto her back and entered her before she understood what was happening.
His thrusts deepened and hastened inside her as he covered her face with his kisses.
His hands were fondling her, and she allowed her hand to slide between them until it reached the point where their bodies were joined.
Her fingers touched his manhood again, and he cried her name while his thrusts increased until the waves of pleasure shattered them both.
A while later, exhausted, breathless, he struggled to speak. "Mrs. Darcy, what are you doing to me?"
"I am sorry for awakening you, Mr. Darcy. I hope you are not displeased with me."
"I have never been less displeased in my life, my beloved," he replied hoarsely, pulling her into his arms again. "Have I told you today how much I love you?"
"You have not, sir. But is very early yet," she laughed with delight.
∞∞∞
Only minutes later, after more teasing and kisses, Elizabeth sensed the danger of being late and, unwilling to succumb to any further distraction, she rang for Sarah.
She demanded that Darcy move to his room. He resisted, argued with her with mock seriousness, then eventually obeyed and withdrew to his own chamber, closing the door that had always been open since they had married.
"What time are you expecting my aunt?" Darcy enquired as they sat at the breakfast table.
"I shall meet her and Georgiana at Madame Claudette’s and we will return together. And you? Do you have any plans while we are trying on dresses?"
"I will meet my uncle at our club."
"At least you will have a relaxing time. I cannot wait for this day to end."
"Are you anxious?" Darcy asked his wife, incredulously. "About an appointment at the modiste?" he mocked her.
She rolled her eyes at his accusations.
"Not about the appointment, Mr. Darcy. You must give me more credit!"
"I trust you completely, but I can see you are not at ease," he insisted.
"I am not and I cannot explain why. I admit I am slightly nervous, without even knowing the reason."
"May I attempt to relieve your distress?" he asked hoarsely, and she blushed, then rolled her eyes again.
"Do be serious, Mr. Darcy. I must ask for the carriage, I do not want to be late."
"If you are late, they will wait for you. This is one of the advantages of having a wealthy husband," he joked again.
"It would be of no use to me there. From what Lady Matlock has told me, the appointments are very tight, and everyone who visits Madame Claudette is the wife of someone wealthy."
"Or the mistress," Darcy added, much to Elizabeth's horror.
"Have you ever accompanied a woman to try on dresses, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth enquired archly.
"Do you not know me well enough to assume the answer, Mrs. Darcy?" he replied without hesitation. "However, I would gladly keep you company today, if you wish."
"No… thank you. I would prefer to surprise you with the gown when it is ready. I am nervous enough even without you there."
"Very well. Your wish is my command, Madame," he teased her. "I will take you to Madame Claudette’s and will come to fetch you later."