Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
Her heart pounded as she heard Darcy firmly shut the door behind him. They had been tempting one another with lingering looks and longing hints for a week. Elizabeth had been yearning for this, but now that she finally had Darcy in her chamber, she felt embarrassed at how she had got him here.
It should please her that he understood why she needed and wanted to share a bed with him now rather than waiting until after their wedding in two weeks. But imagining a highly desirous event was a distinct thing from now being called on to do it.
She felt him standing behind her, looking at her as she took slow steps into the room, hiding her nervousness by busying herself with lighting a few more candles. No man had been in her chamber since her husband’s death, and Darcy’s presence seemed to dominate the room.
She had wondered what Darcy would be like when they could be fully alone with one another. Cautious? Gentle? Assertive?
Elizabeth slowly turned to look at him. A week as a new bride before going off to war, where her primary role was to provide comfort to a man facing death, now seemed inadequate to prepare her for the fervent way Darcy looked at her .
He came up to her, one of his arms slipped around her waist to hold her flush against him, the other hand pulling the pins from her hair, and with a few quick steps, he pressed her back against the wall. “Elizabeth” was all he said before his lips came down on hers.
He kissed her hard, his mouth hungrily tasting against hers again and again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him, moulding her body against his as their tongues tangled. Darcy leant harder against her, his hips against hers, pressing her into the wall. He gently bit on her lower lip and desire coursed through her.
She had never seen this passionate side of Darcy before, but she liked it. More than liked it; she was bursting to see more of it. But what did he want from her? Would she even remember what to do?
Darcy slipped a hand between them, cupping her breast. As her breath came heavier, she wondered if he would want to see her unclothed even though she had a baby. Did he want her to take off his clothes and touch him? That was likely, but should she do that now or later?
He left her mouth to kiss a trail down her throat, but then stopped.
“I can feel you thinking,” he murmured against her neck. “What is the matter?”
There was no sense in pretending he was wrong. “I lured you here—excitedly, I assure you—but now I think I am unprepared.”
“The baby in the nursery says otherwise,” he said in his wry way.
She laughed a little. “I am just anxious about what you want. What you like. What you want from me. I was married only a short time, you know.”
Darcy leant back from kissing her neck, but kept her firmly pressed against the wall with his body. “Elizabeth, you could tie me naked to that chair and sit astride me, and I would not mind.”
Her cheeks flushed so quickly they hurt. “I doubt I am ready for that tonight, but we can work up to it.”
He shifted his weight from her and moved away, avoiding her eye. He had been vulnerable, and her own nervousness might have ruined something between them .
“I liked how you kissed me,” she blurted. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she had not enjoyed what they had done so far.
He blinked once, then looked behind her. “I pinned you against a wall,” he said, as though he had not realised it until now.
“And I liked it. I adore your urgency.” Elizabeth put her arms on his shoulders to pull him closer. “I did not know how much I needed that passion from you. Don’t mistake my nervousness for any disinclination for your enthusiasm.”
“What made you nervous?” he asked, his hands on her hips.
“A realisation that as much as I want you in that bed, I was uncertain what to do with you once I had you there.”
He kissed along her neck again. “You have worried and survived for a long time. Every anxiety of how you would eat and how would you care for your son, and if he would be taken from you—you had to endure everything alone.”
“Not anymore,” she said with a breathy sigh as he sucked behind her ear.
He put an arm around her waist and gave her a gentler kiss than before. “You asked me here to have my way with you?—”
“ You said that,” she interrupted. “I asked you to my bed. Maybe I meant to sleep next to me.”
He chuckled as he hugged her, his breath hot against her neck. “Sleeping comes later. Since you finally trust me and want me to take care of you,” he whispered into her ear, “why don’t you let me do that?”
When she tried to agree, the word caught in the back of her throat and came out as a soft moan. She managed a nod and slipped her hands down his shoulders to tug on the lapels of his coat and drew him toward the bed. When they reached it, she tore it from his shoulders, and Darcy pulled his arms out and flung it to the ground.
Her pulse quickened as he twisted his fingers through her hair, kissing her again before saying, “I want you to take everything off.”
She noticed his small satisfied grin when she did as he bid. He made quick work of removing his own clothes, and he watched her intently as she untied, unlaced, and slipped off nearly everything. She perched on the edge of the bed in her chemise, tugging off her stocking and trying not to be distracted as Darcy added more of his clothes to the pile.
Elizabeth admired him as he lifted his shirt over his head and unfastened the placket of his trousers. He was a handsome man, and even more so now that most of his clothes were on the floor. He had broad shoulders, lean muscles, a trim waist, and nothing below that was anything a woman would complain about.
Darcy was flawless. And she had had a baby twelve weeks ago that she was still nursing.
No one would look at her fully clothed and think she had gone to fat, but she certainly did not look like she once did. She suddenly felt much older than Darcy, more world-weary than him. She felt incredibly conscious of every personal flaw compared to his perfection of face and figure.
Well, it was not as though Darcy would refuse her for being a little misshapen. Leaving her chemise on was not strange, and then he would not even notice the imperfections of her new body. She grinned up at him as he stood bare before her, but he did not move to touch her.
He gestured for her to stand up and pointed at her chemise. She should have known he would demand to see her naked. Now she would have to explain.
“Are you sure you want everything off?” He nodded, his breathing coming faster. “But I had a baby.”
His passionate look faded, and he asked in a tone of concern, “Have you recovered?”
“Yes, but…” She hesitated. “I don’t look like Lizzy Bennet anymore.”
The intensity returned to his eyes. “And a good thing too, since I did not fall in love with Lizzy Bennet. I fell in love with Elizabeth Fitzwilliam, who in fifteen days is going to be Elizabeth Darcy.”
She smiled at the name. “I want to be Mrs Darcy, but you might like her better if you did not see her so soon after having a baby.”
He gave her a look as though he thought her stupid. “You were pregnant, but you are mistaken if that means you are now ugly. Take it off,” he commanded.
A shudder of excitement rippled through her. Her body was aching to confirm what her heart and mind already knew. Elizabeth closed her eyes and, in one motion, lifted it up over her head and cast it aside.
When she opened them, she saw his eyes were dark, and for a long moment he just looked at her, entirely transfixed. Smiling, Elizabeth reached out to his shoulders to draw him to her. Darcy started and allowed her to pull him near.
“You are perfect.” He clutched the hair at the base of her neck and pulled her head back, baring her throat for his lips, his teeth, then finally a hard, searing kiss.
She was unaware how they made it onto the bed, just that they were suddenly stretched out, side by side, hip to hip, his hands exploring her body while his mouth explored hers. She was intensely aware of every place his warm skin touched hers.
He slid his hands down, grasping her breasts in his palms while his tongue traced a seductive path along her neck. While his tongue and lips and teeth touched every part of her neck and throat, his hands tantalised her breasts.
Elizabeth spread her hands over his shoulders and trailed them lower, feeling his chest and down his stomach. Her hand closed around him, gently stroking him up and down, but Darcy rolled her onto her back, grasping her wrist and then raising both of her hands above her head before kissing her again and rubbing his thumb over her nipple.
“But I want to touch you,” she said against his lips.
“Tomorrow,” he said roughly. “Tonight, I take care of you.”
More gently than before, he ran his fingers over her breasts and shifted lower to flick a nipple with his tongue. She arched her back, and the sound she made, a low moan and a sharp cry jumbled together, made Darcy ask, “Did you like that?”
Whatever whimpered noise she made, he must have taken it as an assent because he continued to press his lips and tongue against her breasts. Another low, pleasured moan escaped her as he reached his hand between her legs.
Darcy brushed his lips over her mouth, her breasts, and down her waist before kissing his way lower. The sensation of his tongue against her was so intense her vision swam. She had heard of such an act, but no description of it could compare with what Darcy was now doing.
He found one place with his tongue and another with his fingers, returning to them over and over until her raspy moans filled the room. Her fingernails clutched the sheet beneath her while the other hand held a light grip on his hair. Darcy reacted to every sigh and moan until she was gasping and begging for more, until the world burst into stars.
Elizabeth lay lost in sweet transport while Darcy’s mouth, fingers, and tongue eased back to gentle strokes before he stopped and fixed his eyes on her. She had never received such an affectionate and yearning look from a man.
She sat up on her elbows as he moved up her body. “I can return the favour.”
He pushed her onto her back and trapped her head between his elbows and forearms before lowering his head to hers. Being pinned beneath him made her desire rise in a way she had not expected. “I told you. I am taking care of you.”
After a fierce kiss, he left her lips, kissing his way over to the skin behind her ear and down her neck. “Do you want me?” Darcy bit lightly on her earlobe as he asked the question.
Did he fear she doubted he would be worth the trust she gave him? Did he need her to know that she had made the right decision to trust him and marry him? “Yes,” she said, not caring how needy her voice sounded. “Desperately.”
“Then kiss me.”
She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him, long, slow, and deep, with all the urgency and desire she felt for him. He moved so he was fully atop her and entered her in one swift stroke. Pleasure rose so fast upon her with his rapid thrusts that she cried out in wonder.
She felt the tension in his muscles, rippling with restraint. Elizabeth felt the anticipation of the bliss certain to follow if only he would move harder. She lifted her hips to wrap her legs around him and gave him an intent look as her nails pressed into him.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Elizabeth moaned as his movements were, at last, more powerful against her. The bed shook, the curtains rustled, and Darcy’s pants of pleasure grew louder as he moved faster. There was so much urgency and emotion simmering between them and she was sure she could lose herself again.
“Please,” she panted, “I need—” Darcy slipped a hand between them to drive her on a second time, and she moaned his name and urged him on until pleasure overtook her.
His eyes squeezed shut at the moment of release. He let out a small groan from the back of his throat, fervently pressing his lips against her throat, her shoulder, her cheek. His chest heaved with deep breaths, and for a long while, they simply held each other. She was finally here with Darcy. She was safe, and she loved him, and he loved her equally in return. They were happy together.
The softness of his lips mingled with his warm breath against her neck as he asked, “Are you satisfied with your choice?”
“Do you mean in choosing you, or choosing to let you seduce me before our wedding?”
Darcy propped his head on his elbow. “In choosing me to be your husband, to tie your life to mine after all.”
“Well, you just proved that there are benefits to the arrangement I had not considered when I refused you the first time.”
She loved him so well, and felt so satisfied, that she did not even tease him about his smug grin.
“I should ask you the same question,” she said as Darcy rolled onto his back and pulled her with him. “In your case, love has unduly racked and rent your heart. I caused you a great deal of heartache before you had a wife with you at Pemberley.”
“It does not compare to your year,” he murmured, easing a strand of hair from her face. “After I understood what happened in Spain, I doubted if you would ever be the same again. And now, after what Milton attempted? What nightmares you must have.”
She shook her head and kissed him. There was no reason to talk about any of that now.
“And,” he added, smiling, “technically, it is still two weeks and one day until I have a wife at Pemberley. Just a fortnight now,” he corrected, looking toward the clock on the mantel and noting the hour.
“I am impatient too.”
“I had wondered how ready you were,” he said slowly. “Not that tonight did not show me, but I wondered if you needed more time to reconcile yourself to your choice.”
“I would not have come to Pemberley if I was not ready to choose happiness and trust you. Thank you for putting up with me.”
“It is a trial, but I am bearing up,” he said.
She laughed and settled into him. “My own experiences taught me that men are careless of women. But I should have realised so much sooner that you would not be like that. My pride and fear cost both our hearts more pain.”
Darcy yawned, and Elizabeth asked, “Are you sleeping here?”
“Yes.” He shifted to pull the bedclothes over them both. “All that talk about being seen leaving your room is irrelevant. We are marrying in two weeks. No one should be surprised or outraged. Let the servants gossip, if they even see me leave in the morning wearing my evening clothes.”
“Rebeckah will certainly see you. She will bring Edward to me at five.”
“Five?” he cried. “It is after one now.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Do you go back to sleep when he is done?”
She scoffed. “You have much to learn about infants. Be grateful he sleeps six hours at night. You can leave and have a full night of sleep. I promise to give nothing away in how expressively I smile at you when we meet over the breakfast table.”
Darcy ran his fingertips up and down her back. Being pressed naked against him, warm and satisfied, was the finest feeling in the world. “No, I will stay. Better I scandalise Rebeckah now so she has time to get accustomed to seeing me in your bed every morning.”
Elizabeth smiled. “The baby, at least, will be glad to see you.”
“That is because I make silly faces at him. He finds me hilarious.”
She laughed and then grew thoughtful. “It will be a while before we have another child.” She might have said “one of your own,” but Darcy would not see it that way. “Do you mind?”
She felt him shake his head as she rested in his arms. “Most families assume eighteen to twenty-four months between children if the mother nurses. Besides, after everything that has happened in the past year, I think it not unwise to keep things simple for a while, if we can.”
“That will be much easier for you now that the woman you fell in love with is no longer fearful, prideful, and stubborn.”
Darcy tightened his arms around her. “You should know,” he said while pressing a kiss to her temple, “that my heart was not as racked and rent as you feared.”
“And neither was mine, as I have come to realise. I learnt very early in life that marriage is a double-edged sword of joy and pain. But you taught me that I must not be afraid to love and trust someone again.”
April 1812
Meryton
After the christening of young Charles Bingley, Elizabeth’s family and friends gathered at Longbourn where the christening cake and wine went in progress round the company nearly as much as the infant himself. Her nephew was kissed by every lady in company and declared to be a little lamb by the men, and Elizabeth was glad that Edward remained in the Netherfield nursery with Rebeckah .
At six months old with a winsome smile, he would have stolen his young cousin’s thunder.
Elizabeth was happy to have Edward know her family, but she was equally satisfied that she did not live as near to them as Jane did. Thank goodness Bingley had invited them to stay at Netherfield rather than at Longbourn. Even with three of her daughters married, her mother still went on about the need for rich husbands, and her father teased about how grateful he was to not have to support her.
Her home at Pemberley with Darcy, Edward, and Georgiana was everything she needed.
Elizabeth watched Darcy talk with the Gardiners on the other side of the drawing room. They had been in London together last month when they received news that young Charles arrived just as early as Edward had. She knew Darcy had to work to be patient with her parents and sisters, but he quickly came to love the Gardiners. It reminded her of how easily her first husband had charmed her aunt and uncle last winter.
Her late and current husbands were so different in manner, and yet the family she loved most had loved both men she had chosen. Darcy could command a room with his quiet authority. Her first husband charmed it by ready conversation. Darcy’s countenance spoke volumes. It answered in the sweetest small smiles and the most intelligent glances, like the subtle but warm look he was giving her now from across the room. So unlike her first husband’s ready humour and easy conversation. One expressed so much in his words, the other in his looks.
That quick, intense glance he just gave told her what affection for her lay in the depths of Darcy’s heart.
“Eliza?” She turned to see Charlotte Lucas standing by her side. She had only seen her former friend at large gatherings. She had told Darcy how much she wanted to avoid a tête-à-tête, but there was no escaping her here. “How is young Edward?”
She had to remember that Charlotte was there when Edward was born and had attended his christening. For the sake of everyone’s peace and for the memory of what Charlotte’s friendship had once meant to her, she answered politely. “He is healthy and happy, thank you.”
“I can see by your tone you still do not approve of my sending you to your brother-in-law,” Charlotte said sadly.
This was neither the time nor the place to argue about what a betrayal Charlotte’s actions had been. “You knew he was a hateful man and that I could not trust him, and yet you sent me into his hands. The best I can say for your actions is that you thought you were helping me.”
She and Charlotte could never be what they once were to one another. Her disloyalty cut too deep.
“It seems to have worked well for you,” Charlotte said, looking across the room at Darcy, who had turned his watchful eye her way. “You married a rich man, and he provided for you and your son, after all. That security was all I ever wanted for my friend.”
Elizabeth took a calming breath. She could not describe what Lord Milton was willing to do to her and her baby. The memories of sitting in that room at Milton Hall for days, her son wrenched from her arms, fearing what she would have to submit to in order to escape, all came flooding back.
She felt Darcy’s hand on the small of her back and was anchored again in the here and now. “Mrs Darcy, I would like to return to Netherfield. I asked your mother to call the carriage.”
“Yes, of course.”
Darcy gave Charlotte the slightest tip of his head, the scarcest he could do to acknowledge her, and then went to part from their friends.
“I must leave now,” Elizabeth said. “I wish you well.”
“I am glad to see you settled and finally aware of your proper place, and with no undue influence over your husband. You may dislike me for what I did, but you ended up where you belonged.”
There was no doubt she was with the man she ought to be with, but had her former friend implied she was under Darcy’s thumb? Elizabeth might have simply left, but she could not let such a comment go. “What do you mean by my ‘proper place’? ”
“A woman’s place, my dear Eliza. Obedience on the part of a wife fills a house with love and harmony. You never understood, at least not until now. That assures a gentleness on the part of a husband toward his wife.”
“You think my subservience makes me deserving of my husband’s affection?”
Charlotte smiled. “He told you it was time to leave your family and friends, and you submitted without question. Glare all you like, but you are in a woman’s proper place now—and you are all the better for it. You have learnt to defer to your husband, and I am glad for you and for Edward. You will want for nothing.”
“Darcy interrupted us because I asked him to,” she said in a low voice. “I told him that if he saw us speaking alone to please rescue me from suffering your presence because I was uncertain I could keep a civil tongue.” Charlotte’s face paled. “I have no undue influence over Darcy, and he has affectionate confidence in me, as I do him. He does not rule over me. We are equals in every way. Goodbye, Miss Lucas.”
She parted from her parents, told Jane she would see them at Netherfield, kissed her nephew, and joined Darcy in the hall. He clasped her hand, but said nothing until they were alone in the carriage.
“Was it very vexing, my dear?” he asked. “You have avoided seeing her alone for a fortnight.”
“It was harder than I thought it would be.” Charlotte had once been her sensible and supportive friend, but they would never agree on matters that were close to Elizabeth’s heart. “She has opinions on women and my place in the world that I could never condone.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “What did she say about your ‘place’?”
“That you treat me well because I am obedient.”
“Obedient?” he repeated. “That shows she has spent little time with us.”
“Oh, yes, I generally refuse you from a spirit of ill-bred opposition. You are a pitied, henpecked husband.”
He smiled at her teasing. “Fortunately, you married a sensible man who does not withdraw his affection when you set up your own judgment against mine. However, you really ought to only do so in cases absolutely within your own province, like embroidery or fashion.”
Darcy laughed upon seeing the look of outrage on her face. “Truly,” he said, “I think mutual forbearance goes further in earning affection than ready submission on anyone’s part.”
She smiled back before giving him a kiss. “And you would agree that it helps to spar a little now and then.”