Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One

pantomimes from London for the first act. As expected, the comedic company delivered a riotous, irreverent performance. The play chosen was the classic English fairy tale Jack and the Beanstalk, executed brilliantly with smashing audience participation. Mugs of wassail had been passed around for the obligatory cheers of “Waes hael,” as well as small bags of beans to throw at the giant when instructed. Lizzy had never witnessed anything quite like it nor laughed so hard in her life.

After an intermission, the audience took their seats for the last half of the production. For the dramatic portion of the theatrical, Sir Cole had hired a renowned company from Birmingham to perform the new play by E. T. A. Hoffmann, Nutcracker and the Mouse King. This latest piece had been written just that year and not yet translated for the general masses; therefore, it was an amazing treat. Darcy, especially, was fascinated by the Prussian author’s stories, so he was delighted and utterly spellbound. Lizzy privately found it too somber but highly imaginative, nonetheless, and magnificently acted.

The end of the theatricals effectively capped a marvelous evening. Visiting, drinking, and nibbling continued for several hours more, although Darcy and Lizzy tarried for some forty-five minutes only. Lizzy renewed her teatime appointment with Harriet, Mrs. Fitzherbert, Mrs. Sitwell, and Mrs. Drury. Darcy thanked his aunt for comforting Elizabeth after the Orman debacle. Invitations were extended by Darcy to several of the young couples of his circle for dinner two days hence, before the Gardiners and Lathrops departed. He spontaneous planned this without consulting Lizzy, to her surprise, not because she minded but because she would have thought him weary of so much entertainment.

Finally in their carriage, nestled close for warmth as well as the yearning to touch each other, Lizzy sighed and contentedly rested her head on Darcy’s inner shoulder. He kissed her head and stroked her arm. She arched her neck and peered at her husband’s smiling face. “You were the handsomest man there, my love, and I the most fortunate of women because I get to go home with you.”

“Flatterer! It is not necessary, beloved; you already have me.”

“I can only speak the truth. Now kiss me, Mr. Darcy, and then tell me about the plans you have for when we get home.”

He did not answer her inquiry but did acquiesce to her request by kissing her searchingly in sheer delight. The short carriage ride home passed swiftly, both of them gasping shallowly with barely enough forethought to cease their activity before the footman opened the door. The cold blast of winter air restored clarity sufficiently to enable them to ascend the staircases in relative calm.

The manor was dimly lit and quiet. A fire was smoldering in their bedchamber, but otherwise the room was dark. Darcy barely managed to keep his hands off his lovely wife during the long walk. He drew her back against his chest the moment they entered their room, latching the door simultaneously. His hands stroked voraciously over her hips and thighs as he delivered sensuous kisses along the silky nakedness of her neck and collarbone.

“Oh, my sweet, delicious wife. How is it possible to love and hunger for you more with each day that passes?” He suckled her earlobe. Lizzy moaned, pressing herself firmly against him. “You render me breathless with desire, my lover. So beautiful. Dancing with you was equally a pleasure and an agony.”

“Agony?” she asked in a bare whisper.

He turned her in his arms, cupping her face with his hands, thumbs caressing. “I want you so, my beloved. Do you know what exquisite torture it is to be so close to you, to feel your touch, gaze upon your enchanting beauty, and yearn to make love to you with every muscle in my body, yet not be able to even kiss you?”

She smiled. “Yes, William, I do know. Were you fantasizing again, beloved?”

“Always. Carefully, however, or the entire assembly would have been witness to Darcy of Pemberley’s more personal and private attributes.”

Lizzy laughed, reaching down while kissing his lips lightly, she said, “I would rather keep those marvelous attributes for mine eyes only.”

“You forever shall, Elizabeth. Now, stay here a moment.” He added a log to the fire and then lit a couple lamps, returning hastily to where she patiently stood. With a stunning smile and graceful bow, he asked, “Mrs. Darcy, may I have this dance?”

She giggled at his silliness, but curtseyed properly, “You may, Mr. Darcy.”

In a flawless waltz position, humming Mozart in perfect pitch, he swept her about the room. Full orchestra music was unnecessary. As regally as at the Masque, their clothing impeccable and movements as one, they floated. The flowing, elegant steps proceeded naturally as they raptly adored each other. As they glided through the sensuous swaying motions, Darcy incrementally lured her closer to his body until they touched. His left hand grasped Lizzy’s right, fingers interlaced, and he kissed each finger before placing their enfolded hands against his heart. They danced, twirled, and wove in unity and rhythm as their passion heightened. Both were panting and light-headed with a burning desire.

Darcy steered her to the edge of the bed, laying her down smoothly as he hovered above her, supporting himself so as not to crush her. “I love you, Elizabeth,” he murmured and then engulfed her mouth with a hungry urgency. One seeking hand traveled leisurely over her body, tantalizing her through the filmy satin of her gown as she arched to meet him. With a throaty groan, he pulled away from her lips momentarily, studying her rapturous face, and continuing to arouse her with his fingers as she gasped and trembled while skillfully arousing him. They kissed again as if starved, delirious with rising ardor, wanting to be joined together intimately as if life depended on it, yet unable to break from the consummate rapture of shared breath.

Raining moist kisses over her neck, he peeled the delicate fabric off one shoulder, traveling to her exposed bosom for gentle kisses. In time he moved to kneeling on the floor between her legs. Caressing under her skirt and petticoat until the urgent craving to love each other consumed them, they joined forcefully and blissfully.

“William! My heart, oh God, how I love you!” She clutched his shoulders under his jacket, succumbing to the joy of him, the love and passion that consumed her now and always. On they loved, heaven attained eventually as they molded bodily and melded spiritually.

Darcy collapsed onto her. Words were temporarily impossible, all effort expended on breathing. Lizzy’s wits resurfaced first. Running her fingers through his hair, her head turning to kiss his cheek, she murmured, “Fitzwilliam, my lover, I adore you more than life.”

Darcy lifted on an elbow, fingering along her face with one hand while the other embedded into the curls spilling over her right shoulder. He kissed her tenderly. “You are beautiful, my wife. All night I watched you dazzling and charming the citizens of Derbyshire, and pride consumed me. I cannot believe you are mine, my Lizzy, my treasure. I am the most fortunate of men.”

She smiled, “We are both fortunate, husband. Now, I want to feel your glorious naked body surrounding me as we sleep. You have blissfully exhausted me, so I shall need your assistance to undress.”

He chuckled, kissed her lightly. “I am not certain I can stand, so we may need to help each other!” They did, the process of unclothing the other eliciting a mild state of reoccurring arousal, but in the end they were blessedly spent and required sleep. At least for the moment. 

Chapter Sixteen The Long Winter

Winters in Derbyshire tended to be harsher and longer than in Hertfordshire. In the days immediately following the ball, the weather turned threatening: ominous clouds gathered and persisted unabated for weeks, occasionally disbursing sheets of rain or snow. Those brief episodes when the sky cleared were grabbed expeditiously. After the Masque, life in the region settled into a protracted period of waiting. For the younger and more society-craving citizens, it was an agony of boring days and nights passed in impatient endurance until the spring thaw permitted the mass exodus to London.

For Lizzy, it was the most blissful period of her life. She had her moments of restlessness when the need to stretch her legs overwhelmed her until she would brave the cold and her husband’s frown for an extended turn about the frozen gardens. Otherwise, she found that each day brought new wonders, numerous activities both at Pemberley and with her new friends, family time, duties and lessons to learn as Mistress, and always overshadowing it all, the love for Darcy that grew daily.

Until the ninth of January, Lizzy devoted every possible minute to close communion with her aunt and uncle.