Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Elizabeth had untangled and brushed her hair, and she was about to ring the bell for a maid who could help her change her dress, when there was a knock at the connecting door between her chamber and Fitzwilliam’s. He walked in when she bade enter, in his shirt sleeves and breeches, carrying a tray and a bottle of wine.
For a long moment, Darcy stared at her dear face, framed by loose chocolate tresses falling silkily to her waist. Then he cleared his throat to murmur, “I thought you could do with some help since we misplaced Sarah also in Ashleigh Manor.”
Elizabeth’s heart did a quick somersault at the idea before she tried to reply as calmly as she could. “I was just about to ring for a maid.”
“There is no need for that when I am at your command.” He gave her a quick grin before bringing the tray and bottle to a settee near the window. “But first things first, come and eat something.”
Elizabeth noticed that the tray he had brought with him had bread, cheese, biscuits, and dainty slices of seed cake. Although she was not very hungry, it had been a long time since they had eaten, so she nibbled at some cheese and the delicious seed cake. And she drank the wine that her husband offered her straight from the bottle.
“No flutes for the wine? Are you trying to get me inebriated, Mr Darcy?” she asked with an impish smile even as she swallowed deeply.
“Of course not. I just did not want to go back to my room again to get the glasses.” Darcy smiled at her before taking a swig himself. After a heartbeat, he added thoughtfully, “Although, now that I think of it, it would not be such a bad thing…”
“What, getting inebriated?”
“Nah. Only a little uninhibited,” he murmured as he passed her the bottle once more, and Elizabeth blushed at the expression on his face.
After swallowing the last of his bread, Darcy asked his wife, “Do you want something else, Elizabeth?”
She shook her head, suddenly finding it difficult to speak. Darcy placed the tray on a nearby table before rising from the settee and pulling her along with him.
“Shall I?” he whispered in her ear as he stood behind her, his hands on the top button of her dress.
Elizabeth nodded wordlessly, even as his warm breath on her ear made her tremble.
∞∞∞
“If you take so much time to understand how the stays are to be untied and loosened, then no one is going to hire you for a maid, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth teased as she watched her husband pull his shirt over his shoulders and throw it on a chair before slipping under the coverlet beside her.
“You do not need to worry about me, madam,” Darcy retorted, looming over her for a moment before stooping to kiss her shoulder, which was just visible above the edge of the coverlet.
“I have already hired myself as your permanent personal maid of apparel divesting. You just wait and watch how proficient I become after only one or two sessions like this one,” he chuckled in her ear before raising his head and kissing her deeply.
Elizabeth understood the truth of his words when he trailed soft kisses to her neck, and she realised he had already divested her torso of the coverlet. She flushed to the roots of her hair, and her body tensed unintentionally as his hand leisurely glided to rest on her waist.
Alert to her every nuance, Darcy lifted his head to stare at her intently. “Um… Elizabeth… do you… know what occurs between a man and his wife in the marriage bed?”
Elizabeth gave him a hesitant smile. “Aunt Gardiner did tell me the basics, and she also said that you would know what to do.”
Darcy gazed at her for a moment, then grinned. “Your aunt was correct as usual. I do know what to do—quite a bit, in fact. However, in the interest of transparency, I would like you to know that my information originates from literary sources. As far as… um… the practical application of the knowledge is concerned, you and I are in the same boat, and we will have to show each other what we like.”
“Oh! You mean…” Elizabeth’s eyes rounded in surprise and delighted possessiveness.
“Hmm.” He nodded, then resumed trailing kisses down her neck. “Do not worry, Elizabeth; my physics master used to say that I was the best in my class for applying theory to practical,” he mumbled against her bosom.
“Physics? What has physics got to do… oh!” she cried out as his tongue flicked against the peak of her bosom and the hand on her waist slid lower.
She gasped aloud as his hands and mouth began to wreak a very deliberate and determined havoc on her senses. Her last coherent thought, before sensations rendered her temporarily oblivious, was that her husband’s professor was a very canny man!
∞∞∞
Elizabeth stirred slowly and tilted her head to look about her. She was lying on her side. Her head rested on her husband’s arm, while his other arm was flung over her midriff, anchoring her to his side. A glance at the candelabras revealed that she had dozed off only for a little while. She stretched languorously in order to ease the slight soreness in her limbs, and as memories of the most indescribable experience of her life came flooding in, she let out a contented sigh. Her smiling gaze drifted over the arm holding her, and she took her own out of the counterpane to gently trace a finger over his shapely hand, up his wrist, and over to the corded forearm. The light dusting of short black hair on it was surprisingly soft to touch.
“Mhmm.” With an inarticulate groan, her husband pressed his lips to the exact spot below her ear that made her shiver with pleasure without fail. Her smile widened. He, too, was awake.
“Fitzwilliam?”
“Hmm?” he asked sleepily.
“I want to give you a sobriquet.”
“Why? Am I no longer an oyster in your eyes?”
Elizabeth smiled as she heard the smile in his voice. “Oh, it is not that at all! Let me rephrase. I want to give you another sobriquet.”
“Hmm. And what is it going to be this time?” he enquired, even as he dropped a kiss on her hair.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy—tutor par excellence!”
“Oh?”
“Yes, whether it is riding, or billiards, or… making love, and whether you have known the skill a lifetime or only through a book, you are the best tutor.”
“Really?” he asked in a whisper.
“Of course! It is a good thing that I implicitly trust your honesty; otherwise, I would have been very hard-pressed to believe that this was your first time doing what we did just now.”
The next instant, Elizabeth found herself lying flat on her back, with her husband looming over her. She could not help but grin at the expression of boyish triumph on his face. She lifted her hand to trace its contours, while admiring his smiling mouth and beautiful eyes glinting down a glorious gold at her.
For an idle moment, she wondered which of his beautiful features she found more arresting. Unsurprisingly, she was unable to decide. His expressive eyes provided a mirror to his soul—his innermost feelings. And it thrilled her when they suddenly fizzed down on her, as they were doing right now. On the other hand, a smile on his normally austere face was like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. As for his mouth, she had considered it an instrument of torture when she first heard his rude comments in Meryton. Her smile turned dreamy. Truth be told, it was still torture, albeit of a totally different kind.
His hand brushing aside the hair from her face brought her out of her reverie, and she saw him looking down at her quizzically.
Flustered that he might guess the direction of her thoughts, she teased him quickly, “Someone looks very proud of themselves.”
“Of course. I am as proud as I have ever been in my life,” he muttered, leaning to capture her lips in a lingering kiss.
Suddenly, a thought struck Elizabeth. “We never did go to your bedchamber.…” She jerked slightly as he nipped gently at her left earlobe.
“Drat the bed. In any case, what is yours is mine, including this bed.”
Elizabeth could only smile at his convenient reasoning. “Fitzwilliam?”
“Mmhmm?”
“Will you show me that book?”
“Book?” he enquired absentmindedly, more concerned with discovering places that made her shudder with pleasure.
“Yes, the one that you consulted for…” she broke off and gestured vaguely. Colour stained her cheek when he raised his head to scrutinise her intently.
“Ah, that book.” Darcy grinned and suddenly got up from the bed and hastily donned his shirt and breeches. He then went to her cupboard, rummaged for a bit, and returned with a red nightgown.
In one fluid movement, he wrapped her in the garment and picked her up in his arms. Impatiently brushing away the counterpane that refused to leave her limbs alone, he made his way towards the door leading to his own chamber.
“Are we going to peruse the book together?” Elizabeth asked eagerly.
“No, my curious darling, that activity is for a later day.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth’s voice was disappointed. “So where are we going then?”
“Finally, to my bed in my chamber, where I am going to show you what else I have learned from the book!” Darcy responded with a mischievous wink.
∞∞∞
It was late the next morning when Banes and Sarah arrived at Pemberley. Eager to begin attending to their duties, they directly rushed up the servant stairs to the master’s and mistress’s chambers, respectively.
Banes had wanted to travel to Pemberley yestereve, but Colonel Fitzwilliam insisted that Mr Darcy had specifically requested that they travel this morning, perforce he had complied.
Although his master was fortunately quite adept at dressing himself without assistance, there was one thing for which he was quite reliant on his valet. He will be wanting his shave, Banes thought as he opened the door to the master’s bedchamber with a soft, perfunctory knock. He looked around the room and noticed Mr Darcy standing in front of one of the windows, gazing out at the beautiful grounds of Pemberley. Strangely, he was still in his dressing gown.
Banes had just opened his mouth to greet his master when he was taken aback at the sight of a pair of shapely arms, covered in a diaphanous, red garment, slowly wrapping themselves around Mr Darcy’s neck.
Oh! With a silent gasp, he turned and hurried out of the room, taking care to close the door noiselessly.
By the time he shut the door, he had a broad smile on his face. “‘bout time too! I was getting weary of watching him splash all that cold water on himself at odd times!” he muttered as he headed back to his own quarters.
All of a sudden, he halted and closed his eyes to thank the Almighty. Banes admired his mistress as much as he loved his master, but he had noticed all the goings-on ever since Mr Darcy had rushed to Rosings in a mood as black as thunder. And while the situation had improved somewhat since their return from Kent, he had been aware things between his master and mistress were not as they should be between a husband and wife who clearly loved each other.
Not knowing what else to do, Banes had prayed to the Almighty for the happiness of Mr Darcy and his wife. It would appear He had finally decided to listen.
Banes smiled gently at the thought before continuing his walk to his quarters. He would now return only when summoned.
∞∞∞
When Sarah entered the mistress’s chamber that morning, she found it empty. Ah, she is already off on her rambles, she thought as she examined the room for anything that needed her attention.
Her mouth dropped open when her gaze fell on the bed. Oh!
The state of its dishevelment was telling its own story.
“Oh,” she mumbled again, unaware that her lips had turned up in a smile of their own accord. Feeling baffled by the tardiness of the maids, she went to straighten things out a little bit. Soon, the footmen would arrive with her mistress’s things from Ashleigh Manor.
Sarah picked up the counterpane in order to fold it when her gaze fell on a rust-coloured stain on the bedsheet, sending her thoughts into a tizzy. She had no personal experience, but her elder sister had deemed it fit to share, in great detail, her experiences of her wedding night with Sarah.
“Oh!” She gasped as she realised what exactly that small, dried smear suggested, given the presence of other supporting evidence. To be honest, once or twice, she had indeed wondered about the relations between Miss Lizzy and Mr Darcy, for she had never once seen him in her mistress’s room in the mornings. But, given how felicitous their relations otherwise were, she had assumed it was the way of the nobility and forgot about it.
Now Sarah knew differently. Although she was happy at the resolution of whatever problem existed between Miss Lizzy and her husband, it was not her place to ponder too much about her mistress’s personal life.
It is best to forget about all this.
However, as she laid the folded counterpane on the bed, her gaze fell on the stain once more, and a sudden troubling notion occurred to her. She knew the ways of the servants all too well. In all likelihood, the bedsheet would spark gossip downstairs, which would be hardly complimentary to Miss Lizzy
If Sarah could help it, she would not let her mistress be subjected to vulgar speculations of Pemberley’s servants.
Once she came to the decision, she sprang into action. After removing the offending bedsheet, she quickly replaced it with a new one from a linen chest in the bedroom. Not ten minutes later, she was leaving the room with the dirty sheet carefully placed in the laundry basket.
I hope that nosey Jenny Baker is not around when I am washing the sheet. Sarah arrived at the servants’ dining room without meeting anyone and had just begun to relax when disaster struck.
“Is that not the bedsheet from the mistress’s chamber, Smith? What has happened to it?”
It took Sarah a moment to comprehend that Mrs Reynolds was addressing her. Everyone else called her by her given name since Miss Lizzy did so, but not Mrs Reynolds, who was a stickler for rules and protocols. To be honest, Sarah was a tad afraid of Pemberley’s housekeeper.
“Ah… I...” For one unfortunate moment, poor Sarah’s mind went blank, and she stared at Mrs Reynolds in dismayed silence.
“Smith?”
“I… I… spilled some tea over it… and I brought it down to clean it… so it don’t stain,” Sarah said the first thing that came to her mind, not knowing that last night Mr Darcy had instructed that they were not to be disturbed in the morning until he rang. Accordingly, their morning tea had not been sent up until now.
“Hmm. Show me the stain; I know a great method to clean all kinds of stains.”
“There is no need for the botheration, Mrs Reynolds, ma’am. I can easily take care of it.”
“Oh, Mrs Darcy has a particular liking for this sheet; I would not want to take a risk,” Mrs Reynolds persisted, holding out her hand imperiously. Sarah had no option but to hand the bedsheet over to the housekeeper and watch unhappily as that good lady carefully scrutinised it.
“Would you like to tell me what this is about?” Mrs Reynolds enquired once she had completed her inspection.
Sarah sighed resignedly, deciding to unburden herself. At the very least, she was certain that Mrs Reynolds would prevent any gossip about the master and mistress of Pemberley in the servants’ hall.
∞∞∞
Mrs Reynolds watched Mrs Darcy’s maid walk away with a benevolent smile. She had sent the girl away after informing her that there would be no talk in the servants’ hall. Martha Reynolds did not condone gossiping among the staff, particularly about the master and mistress. However, it was good to know how loyal the chit was to her mistress. She released a satisfied sigh and returned to her tea which she had left in the dining room.
The information that Sarah had divulged had taken her by surprise, especially in light of the letter she had received from her snooty cousin Carla Higgins shortly after Mr Darcy’s marriage. The letter, which included an apology, the recipe in addition to the apology, and a long, rambling explanation of the apology—all for doubting her, Martha Reynolds, about Mr. Darcy”s reasons for marrying—was entirely unexpected.
Mrs Reynolds suddenly let out a chuckle. Despite the fact that she and Carla had always been close friends, there had also been a friendly rivalry between them ever since she could remember. Carla was particularly proud of her cooking skills and rarely shared her recipes. Mrs Reynolds had repeatedly requested the recipe for the roast duck, which was such a favourite of Master Fitzwilliam’s, but to no avail. She had given up hope of ever having it prepared for the master at Pemberley.
It struck her as extremely hilarious then that her all-knowing cousin had shared the most treasured of her recipes, because she had somehow convinced herself that a man who had his wedding night four monthsafter the wedding had anticipated his wedding vows.
Fairness demands that I write to Carla and let her know that she has shared therecipe under a misapprehension. Perhaps I can even offer to return it to her, Mrs Reynolds thought mischievously, imagining the look on her cousin’s face as she read the letter.
Her chuckles soon turned into helpless giggles,giving the greatest shock of their young lives to the two scullery maids, who happened to be passing by the servants’ dining room door at the moment.