her face, although with Lizzy, penitence was as equally suspect as naughtiness. She came to him, softly placing tiny hands on his chest, and in a little-girl voice asked, “Still love me?”
“More than ever,” he answered, bestowing a kiss to her forehead, cheek, nose, chin, and finally her lips.
She smiled brightly. “This is your study, is it not?” He nodded. “I wondered if it was, when I was here in September.” She flushed in embarrassment. “I did not read anything, but I saw papers with your handwriting and your seal. I could picture you sitting at that desk, working. It’s a beautiful room, William.”
“Have a seat, Elizabeth. Since we are here, I have something to discuss with you.” She did as he asked as he retrieved the envelope given to him earlier by Mr. Taylor, and then he sat beside her, taking her hands. “I recognize that discussions of my wealth are uncomfortable to you, my love, and I appreciate that as it is further proof of your true reasons for marrying me.” He smiled at her.
“Nonetheless, we cannot ignore the facts nor can I discount my responsibilities to you as my wife. When I was in London last, I had my solicitor draw up legal documents regarding my will and settlement for you. That is what is in this envelope. The exact details can be deliberated later. The gist is this: When I die, a settlement of thirty-thousand pounds will be yours, along with a yearly income of three-thousand pounds. Pemberley will forever be open to you as your home, as will Darcy House in London. Ownership of Pemberley will pass to our eldest son with further details regarding future children to be decided when the time comes.”
Lizzy was stunned. Darcy smoothed her cheek and kissed her softly. “For the present, since I selfishly intend to live a very long time to love you, I have set aside a monthly allowance for your personal use. The intention is not to prohibit what you spend but to render easy access to funds as you need them without requiring you to solicit me or Mr. Keith. The bills will be kept in a locked box in that cabinet over there. If at any time you need or want something beyond what monies you have available, you must only ask. Do you understand so far?” She nodded, speechless.
He continued, “Household funds are in a separate account. In time Mrs. Reynolds and I will teach you how it all operates. As I have assured you, dearest, I am making no demands. Pemberley is a very complicated estate and it will take you time to learn it all, if you even chose to do so. All you must understand now is that any decorating you wish to do or furniture you wish to purchase, that sort of thing, is
“Lastly, you are aware that I have a decorator arriving next week, which should be Wednesday. On Monday I have arranged an appointment for you with a dressmaker in Lambton. Her name is Madame du Loire, and she has fashioned many of Georgiana’s gowns. Mrs. Reynolds suggested this course. I hope it meets with your approval, dearest?”
“William, I truly do not know what to say. You are so conscientious and far too generous! You continually stagger me with your ability to contemplate my needs. Thank you!”
“Elizabeth, you flatter me with your kind words. Business I comprehend easily. Women’s necessities are still much a mystery to me. We must educate each other. As always, Mrs. Reynolds and Georgiana, when she returns later this month, will be your principal resources. They know what is available in the region and what should be obtained from Town. Now, enough of that!” He stood up briskly and locked the envelope safely in his desk. “I am overcome with the urgent yearning to unwind with my wife in our sitting room. To hold her in my arms reminding her of my fervent love, devotion, ardor, and happiness. Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?”
When Lizzy entered their sitting room, comfortable and resplendent in her nightgown and robe, Darcy was already reclining on the chaise lounge before the fire. He had an open book in his hand and momentarily did not hear her, so engrossed was he. She smiled. He had finally given up reading the book he had labored over during their engagement and had succumbed to the reality that reading was out of the question for the time being. It was refreshing and heartwarming to see him content and able to relax.
She settled herself between his legs, back tight against his chest. He entwined his legs with hers and hugged her close, one arm over her shoulders with a hand resting between her breasts. He kissed the top of her head and told her he loved her. Lizzy could honestly say she had never been happier in her entire life. He began reading aloud and his melodic voice soothed her.
Darcy became aware that his wife had fallen asleep when he asked her a question and she remained silent. “Elizabeth?” he whispered, but there was no response. It was not precisely the ending to the evening he had envisioned, yet oddly the fulfillment of having his wife’s warm body in his arms was intensely gratifying in its own way. He held her for a long time, until the fire had died to embers, listening to her breathe and feeling her vitality. Carefully as not to wake her, he carried her to their bed. He stretched out beside her, marveling how even in her sleep she came to him, nestling close.
Chapter Eight
The next several days passed in much the same manner. Lizzy and Darcy were together almost twenty-four hours a day, and they were incredibly blissful.
While they lounged in bed on their second morning at Pemberley, their fourth day of marriage, Lizzy confessed with some embarrassment her actions the previous morning when she had awoken without him by her side. He laughed out loud, which she considered blatantly unfair.
“Forgive me, beloved; however, I had this vision of you running through the halls in your nightgown. I venture to speculate that any fright I might have given poor Marguerite yesterday would pale in comparison to the panic amongst the house staff at that sight!”
“You beast!” and she hit him with a pillow, which led to him grasping her wrists to stop her, which lead to them kissing several times. When she came up for air, she continued the topic. “I was going to apologize for accidentally pushing you into the doorway yesterday, but now that I think of it, it was your entire fault anyway, so I shall not.”
“How do you reason it was my fault?”
“You should never have left me in the first place!” she declared with a pout. “You have set the standard, Mr. Darcy, by being entirely too wonderful, so your desertion was an overwhelming shock. My feeble wits could not handle it and I acted precipitously. Your bruises are therefore the penalty for your cruelty. Nonetheless, I shall be magnanimous and will even kiss your aches away. Turn over,” she commanded.
She actually was surprised and remorseful to note a small bruise over his mid-spine, which she dutifully kissed. However, she was more taken at the pleasing sight of her husband’s backside. Using all the strength she could muster, she massaged his shoulders, back, and derriere. Darcy moaned with pleasure, his eyes closed. Elizabeth, for being so delicate, had incredibly strong hands.
As expected, her innocent conduct eventually took on a decidedly sensual flavor. She straddled him at his waist, sitting on his bottom, directing her attentions first to his shoulders, massaging as hard as she could. He tried to caress her knees but she slapped him and told him to behave, earning a chuckle. For thirty or so minutes, she diligently applied herself to kneading and manipulating every muscle. Darcy slipped into a daze of relaxing euphoria, unaware, for a time, of Elizabeth’s presence. That was until she scooted off his bottom to his legs and began squeezing his rump and thighs. Her strokes gradually turned from firm and deep to soft and caressing. She traveled over and under his hips, down outer and up inner thighs. His breathing changed from deep and relaxed to sharp and fitful.
He rumbled her name deep in his throat, begging, and she ceased, lying fully onto his back and kissing the nape of his neck as she ran her fingers through his hair, before meeting seeking lips as she rolled off. Darcy gathered her into his arms, passionately kissing her with a ravenous hunger. He pulled away and met her eyes, those beautiful eyes that had intrigued and captivated him almost from the first moment he saw her in Meryton.
“What you do to me, love. So beautiful… exciting… precious. My wife, my only love, my soul.” His endearments and declarations were incessant as he kissed her eyes, lips, nose, cheeks, chin, and neck. They made love slowly initially, quickening as their mutual passion grew.
Darcy whispered words and phrases of love in a pattern that would become very familiar. Like a dam