“Really? I shall remember that, Cousin, and hold it over you.”
But Richard just laughed, slapping Darcy on the back as they walked to the door. “Alas, my wife knows me well and teases me relentlessly about the invisible shackles on my ankles. Luckily, she also knows I would have it no other way.”
For the Master of Pemberley and Darcy House, the morning hours after the departure of Richard Fitzwilliam elapsed in the company of Mr. Daniels and a pile of documents. A great deal was accomplished ere the solicitor left before noon. Appointments for further discussions were made, plans were set in motion, letters were dictated, and Darcy’s hand was cramped from writing. Mr. Travers assisted as secretary, his aged hands steady and possessing a legible penmanship superior even to Darcy’s firm script.
Final instructions for posting of missives and calendar bookings were being given to the butler when the second surprise interruption of Darcy’s day occurred.
Darcy positively answered the tentative knock on his study door, both he and Mr. Travers rising when the interrupter was revealed as Lizzy.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Mr. Travers greeted.
She nodded his direction. “Mr. Travers. Mr. Darcy.”
“Mrs. Darcy,” her husband responded, brows furrowing at the hint of a blush that highlighted her prominent cheekbones. “Is something amiss?”
“No, no. Not at all.” Her flush deepened and eyes flittered away momentarily, Darcy frowning further. “I am so sorry to disturb, but, if it is not too inconvenient or ill timed, I was hoping to speak with you for a moment?”
Mr. Travers was already gathering the stack of papers on the desk corner before him, murmuring his intent to post the letters immediately, and not noticing the puzzled and amused expressions crossing his Master’s features. He passed Lizzy, bowing again, and closed the door firmly behind.
Darcy stood before his chair, observing his wife as she bit her lower lip and fidgeted with her wedding rings. He was content that he could read her moods well enough to ascertain that nothing alarming was causing her strange actions but was unsure of the root source. She was a bit breathless and a becoming flush spread to the tops of her bosoms, which, he noted with a jolt, were rising delightfully with her respirations and perceptible under the clinging muslin of her lightweight spring gown.
“Elizabeth, are you well?” His voice cracked feebly, his blood suddenly racing by her apparent condition.
She glanced up, eyes flashing from sultry to sheepish as she approached. “Michael is asleep and Alexander playing. I was… thinking of you and… missing you.” She nervously swept a loose strand of hair away. “I know you are busy, but wanted to see you and felt that I could not wait.”
She bit her lip again, an unconscious mannerism that never failed to make his knees weak, glancing upward into his penetrating eyes as she now stood in front of him a mere two feet away. He could feel the heat emanating from her body, the flush a ruddy glow now, and he lifted a hand to entwine with the one she extended toward his chest.
However, before their fingers met she exhaled sharply and sidestepped, moving around the chair. Before his surprise allowed him to turn toward her she had placed both hands onto his shoulders, tugging decisively until he sank into the cushioned leather of his enormous chair.
“Elizabeth, what…?”
“I was playing with our son, bouncing the ball between us, while my thoughts became diverted!” Her hands were running over his nape, jawline, and through his hair, fingertips massaging his skin in that mixed therapeutic and seductive way she possessed. Her voice was huskily vibrant but with undertones of peevishness. “How inappropriate is it to be in the company of a two-year-old and begin to feel… That is, what kind of a mother am I to abandon my children so I can seek my husband in the middle of the day? In his study no less! It is not like we haven’t… been together for days or weeks. Why, just this morning, not some six hours ago we… Aargh!”
Darcy was trying hard not to laugh. His smile was faintly lecherous, as her reminder to their morning interlude, instigated most forcefully by her, was a pleasant memory indeed.
“Dearest…”
“All I could think of as I tossed that infernal ball to our innocent baby was your body! Your hands and mouth and neck.” She was leaning into him, breasts brushing over his shoulder blades and breath tickling the exposed skin of his ear as she nibbled on a lobe. “Fitzwilliam…” she whispered, and he turned his face toward her, meeting her glazed eyes for a brief second before she pulled away.
Instantly scarlet to the tips of her ears, she withdrew, back of her hand over her full lips. “I should not have infringed upon you with my… ridiculousness.” She backed away, retreating around his chair until leaning against his desk, locked by his blue eyes glittering with gaiety. “This is pathetic, is it not? Chasing you down while you work to bother you with my humiliating impulses. I know you are to leave soon, and…”
“Are you trying to politely say that your concupiscence is high and that you have sought me out for relief?” His left brow arched playfully. He would not have thought it possible for her blush to deepen, but it did. He chuckled, speaking with humor amid the resonance. “Have I ever given you the idea that I would not welcome your attentions? Or that your passionate nature and zeal for me is not an incredible stimulant to my own ardor? Is there any doubt that I am the type of husband, and man, who gleefully encourages his wife to express her wanton urges and willingly acquiesces?”
She shook her head, smiling and not attempting to hide her desire as he rose and stepped near. He spanned her slender waist, strong hands smoothly lifting and sitting her onto the flat top of his desk. Starting at her ankles, he rubbed upward along the quivering silkiness of her legs, sliding under her skirts. Her legs parted naturally as he bent forward, his large frame dwarfing her dainty body and overwhelming her senses. Brushing his lips over her ear he whispered, “If you desire me, you need only ask. I can assure you I will never deny your fervor if at all feasible to comply.”
Lizzy released a throaty moan, her stasis broken as she seized his cravat and jerked his mouth to hers, deftly untying the knotted silk in seconds. That accomplished, she attacked his clothing and body with a direct assault that stunned him despite his invitation.
Oddly enough, considering the mania they possessed for each other and the wild liberalness of their lovemaking, especially during the first year of their marriage, they had never made love on his desks. His Pemberley desk was simply too cluttered, the risk of serious wounding or impalement too great, so the numerous trysts occurring in that chamber were fulfilled in safer if equally atypical locations. This room was not inviolate, it being a good thing that walls cannot talk, but the desk had mysteriously remained undefiled.
Until now, and they would henceforth wonder why they waited so long! Of course, the fact that Darcy would forever have to tear his thoughts away from decadent memories to attend seriously to work may be one logical justification for avoiding the site. Another was the crumbled parchment pieces and spilled ink. But neither was enough to outweigh the indescribable ecstasy attained. Plus, the vision of his half-clothed wife lusciously splayed over his work surface, her face glistening with the radiance of sensual satiation and lush lips ruddy and swollen from his kisses was a picture he would never be regretful of holding.
“Lizzy, my beautiful Lizzy,” he whispered, lips grazing over the heated skin encasing her fluttering heart. “I do not know what impetus drove you here, into my arms, but I am grateful you did not resist the urge. I love you so!”
“I am not sure what impetus drove me either, William. All morning, even moments after rising from our bed and your arms, I wanted you again.”
His laugh was guttural and replete with satisfaction, teeth delightfully nipping along her collarbone. “Please do not expect me to express the slightest unhappiness in that information!”
“No, I would not anticipate your overwhelming remorse or displeasure. Nor am I in any way displeased. It is just… Ooh! Something is poking my side and my leg is getting a cramp.”
More laughter ensued, the aftermath of rising from the awkward position and adjusting clothing humorous. The poking quill was free of ink, Lizzy’s dress spared that stain although the wrinkles were another matter. They ended up sitting on Darcy’s chair with Lizzy nestled in his lap while he kneaded her thigh muscle free of residual spasms.
“There. Feeling better?”
“Much. The experience was worth any discomfort.” She nuzzled into his neck, hand snaking under his loosened shirt to the hot flesh underneath. “You are amazing, my husband. In every way knowing how to ease my pains. Such a superb deliverer of delights and gratification.” She kissed along his jaw to his ear with tongue
