overflowing, words poured from his lips, verbalizing his emotions and burning need. “God, love… I never dreamed loving you would be so… spectacular, exhilarating! Your skin… like silk… your hands, Oh Lord, your hands, Lizzy!… touching my skin… it is electric, flames… burning my flesh… shivers through me…” He moaned hoarsely, voice low and grating. “Your scent… I am delirious… your moans and sighs of pleasure… for me… my love… mine always… only!”
The pace accelerated, Darcy stridently moaning as he loved her. “Elizabeth, I love you… God how I need you! You squeeze me so tight… your legs, your arms, your body… made for me… love me, my darling! Now!”
Coherent language was lost as passion overcame them both with uttered cries and whimpers, shudders through every nerve and pore. Total abandon and uninhibited release. Two individuals joining as one. Souls combined in the purest expression of love. For timeless minutes they merged and were no longer separate.
If the journeys varied, the destination was the same. It was a beautiful period of discovery for them both. As they explored each other’s bodies and grew daily more aware of their own sensibilities, their intimate relationship blossomed into a fullness and union of souls unreservedly profound. As the initial days turned into the first week, the last vestiges of any embarrassment or awkwardness totally disappeared. At times they were playful. Other times they were serious and tender. Sometimes they were swept away with their passionate hunger. Yet always they were moved by the melding of their spirits, the harmony, and the love that defied logic by growing deeper with each passing day.
Once they emerged from their chambers, it was rarely with any particular destination in mind. They simply wanted to be together. Their keenest desire was to learn more about how the other thought and felt. The intimate nature of their communication evolved as they each had suspected it would once they were married.
Darcy no longer suffered the pain of his loneliness and grief. Wounded areas of his heart were unearthed and healed, some of which he was ignorant even existed. The past no longer haunted him, and he was able to remember and share the happy memories without the instantaneous ache of sadness overwhelming him.
As for Lizzy, she gave herself to him wholly. Her rigid independence, selfreliance, and need to prove herself all shattered before the force of his love. To be essential to another human being, to be vulnerable, to have another assign themselves generously and selflessly is the ultimate expression of true love, and they understood how lucky they were.
Most days they moseyed around Pemberley. Slowly Lizzy began to acquaint herself with the manor’s layout. Darcy was correct in stating that it really was not that confusing. The hallways were set up in a linear fashion and the rooms universally square or rectangular. Perhaps not overly imaginative, but it was easy to navigate. By the end of her first week as Mistress, she was confident enough to wander on her own around the main floor, which she did on those few occasions when Darcy was occupied with a business matter. Nonetheless, she was constantly amazed and, frankly, significantly intimidated by the vastness of the house and by the plethora of art, furnishings, history, wealth, and beauty that Pemberley housed. The more she saw, the more she was awed by the responsibilities her husband carried on his broad shoulders.
The staff was mysteriously everywhere and yet unobtrusive at the same time. Lizzy never once actually witnessed a maid cleaning, yet the manor was spotless. A footman materialized magically when Darcy needed one, then vanished as speedily. Darcy greatly impressed Lizzy by knowing the names of each of them, always making eye contact, and unfailingly inserting “please” and “thank you” into each command. The staff’s devotion to their master and to Pemberley was apparent in their manner and in the pristine condition of the house.
Lizzy had learned much about the estate’s interests during her engagement. Darcy’s pride and pleasure regarding Pemberley were unmistakable. Unwittingly, conversations about his home, both then and now, had given Lizzy tremendous insight into the business affairs that her husband managed. She knew that his income stemmed not only from Pemberley itself but also from investments, trade, and industrial and commercial enterprises in England and abroad.
Nonetheless, the bulk of the estate’s income came from agriculture, livestock, cotton milling, and horse breeding. The farmlands were extensive and offered varying produce, including fruit orchards and grains. Two mills used the power of the River Derwent and modern technology to process the grains and shorn wool. Livestock consisted primarily of sheep with a few goats and wandering fowl. The wild game was generally left unmolested except for the occasional hunting parties Darcy allowed and, of course, for their own table.
Her husband handled all of these aspects of Pemberley’s business efficiently and dutifully. However, Lizzy had rapidly established that his heart lay with his horses. Darcy was a horseman through and through. He confessed to her that, if it were possible, he would happily consign all his responsibilities to someone else and immerse his energies into breeding and training the fine horses of Pemberley.
Thus it was on Lizzy’s second day that Darcy enthusiastically escorted her to the stables. The complex that accommodated the horses, carriages, and equipment, and the massive staff necessary was only slightly smaller than the main house. It too was a marvel of exquisite architecture and craftsmanship. At two stories high, the building could easily house all the staff, store the equipment and numerous carriages, and shelter the horses. A high arch facing south opened onto an enormous courtyard amid the complex where the animals were groomed and cared for. The thoroughbreds were separated from the working horses, each with their own handlers and grooms.
The weather had taken an abrupt turn for the worse. Ominous clouds hovered on the horizon, and Darcy assured Lizzy that it would snow by that evening. Despite the cold, the grooms went about their duties. They acknowledged Darcy’s presence and, as always, Darcy addressed each of them by name.
Lizzy did not ride and was actually quite frightened of horses in general. That was not to say she did not value the beauty and majesty of the species, and it was immediately apparent even to her uneducated eyes that the thoroughbreds of Pemberley were magnificent. Darcy seemed intimately acquainted with each one of them. Parsifal, naturally, had the best stall and was visited by his master first. Treats were given and he was again introduced to Lizzy, who overcame her fear enough to stroke his soft nose.
Darcy knew of Lizzy’s apprehension, so he thought it best to take her to the new colt first. Who could not fall in love with a baby? They arrived just as one of the grooms was about to feed the young animal. Darcy assumed the task and encouraged Lizzy to assist him. One look into the playful, sweet face of the foal and she was captured. Before long she was kneeling in the straw, Darcy beside her, holding onto the makeshift milk bladder and nipple while the colt suckled. It was a fantastic experience. Despite all expectations to the contrary, Lizzy bonded with the foal and would become a frequent visitor. She named him Wolfram, after Wolfram von Eschenbach, the poet who wrote
Next he took her outside to the training pen where a staggeringly feisty stallion was actively being broken. Heedless of what anyone might think, Darcy pulled Elizabeth against his chest, wrapping her with his thick greatcoat. Holding her tight to keep her warm in the gathering gloom, he explained the process unfolding in the corral. Elizabeth was both fascinated and horrified.
“It looks to be rather dangerous,” she said.
“Yes, it can be. The stallions are incredibly strong and unpredictable. One must attain the perfect balance between harboring that strength and controlling it. The mares tend to be slightly more docile, but not by far.”
“And you do this, William? You get in there with these perilous animals?”
“When I can. Unfortunately, my duties do not allow me the freedom I would wish to be consistently hands on.”
“Well, I am glad for that! It terrifies me to think of you in there. Have you ever been hurt?”
“No more than an occasional bruise or the wind knocked out of me. Once I had a mild concussion after being thrown, and there was the time I injured my thigh.” He outlined his wounds with the same concern as if mentioning a paper cut.
Lizzy shuddered. She wished she could forbid him doing something she considered so reckless, but she had no right. One look at the intense emotion on his face as he watched the trainer at work, and she knew she would never wish him deprived of an occupation he so enthusiastically enjoyed. For his sake, she would exhibit interest in the stables and the world contained therein, but it would never be easy for her.
As Darcy predicted, the rain and then snow hit that evening. The intermittently inclement weather made exploring the extensive grounds beyond the immediate surroundings impossible for most of the winter. Instead, Darcy took her to random chambers on the top floor and pointed to features visible from the windows. When seen between storms, the panoramic vista was breathtaking.
