touching me? I feel so dirty and ashamed! I was so afraid he would kill you that I willingly went with him and then he… if I disgust you, I understand.” Her words were halted by a crushing and thorough kiss, Darcy's hands firm about her neck with thumbs stroking her cheeks. It only lasted a few seconds, ending with tender nibbles to her lower lip, Darcy breathing heavily.
His voice was husky with emotion when he spoke, eyes blazing with ardent love. “Elizabeth, I love you! Nothing that happened today was your fault. Nothing! As soon as you are well, I shall obliterate any memory of another's touch. I will remind you of my devotion on every inch of your skin, burning away any trace of him. I promise you this! In the meantime, let me wash away all evidence of today.”
Darcy bathed his wife head to toe with a touch gentle and loving, for the first time ever not becoming aroused by her nakedness. His only desire was to comfort. Stripped to the waist, he sat on a stool by the tub, soaping and scrubbing while she relaxed, nearly falling into a doze. They spoke little, although she did tell him the pains had ceased and there was clearly no bleeding.
The physician arrived just as Darcy placed his damp wife onto the bed. Allowing a maid to dress Lizzy in a nightgown of Julia's, Darcy explained the events of the day to the doctor and described her complaints. A complete exam showed all to be normal. The doctor's recommendation was for her to rest, staying immobile for a couple days at the least. Her bottom was bruised, which may cause some discomfort, but otherwise, he concluded, she was in remarkable health, all things considered.
“Mr. Darcy, I am fairly confident the pains were a result of the stress and shock, augmented by her reported frenzied activity and the fall probably irritating weakened muscles. She needs quiet and rest. The episode has emotionally disturbed her and she needs comforting. However, no activity for two days if the pains remain absent, longer if they resume. No activity, is this clear?” His penetrating gaze left no question as to his meaning.
Darcy flushed slightly, for the first time consciously aware of his improper state of dress. He stiffened, not sure he appreciated the insinuations, but nodded. “I understand.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
They tarried for three days in the company of the Sitwells. After a refreshing night's sleep in her husband's arms, Lizzy was nearly her old self. The pains did not return, although her rear end sported an amazingly colorful bruise that was exceedingly tender. She had sporadic nightmares, waking screaming or crying with Victor's face floating in her mind. Darcy was always there, soothing with caresses and kisses until she calmed and returned to sleep.
Julia Sitwell was a constant companion during the daylight hours. She and Lizzy actually delighted in their extended visit, spending hours reclining on comfortable chaises placed under shady trees alongside gently lapping ponds. Darcy hesitantly succumbed to the persuasion of his wife and joined Rory in a fox hunt, horseback riding, and numerous games of faro and billiards, the outcomes of the latter as he had anticipated. The planned excursion to Castleton, Peveril Castle, and Peak Cavern was cancelled, obviously, Darcy beginning to privately suspect a conspiracy to prevent his wife ever seeing the Peak District! Lizzy merely laughed at his theory, restating the fact that the Peaks were going nowhere. Her joy was in the security of their child, who continued to dance on her bladder and demand sustenance on a frequent basis, utterly unaware of the worry inflicted on his poor parents.
Phillips's fever raged uncontrollably for two days. The physician offered meager hope, the ability to counteract infections of this magnitude minimal. Darcy sent Mr. Anders to retrieve Mrs. Phillips and the children from Pemberley. Whether it was the excellent medical care, the love of family, or Phillips's own intestinal fortitude and sturdiness they would never know, but on the morning of the third day, his fever broke. Lizzy, who was forbidden to leave the confines of her bed and visit, cried with heartfelt relief. It was a slow recovery thereafter, but Phillips was fortunate. No bones were broken and the tissue healed without defect. In three weeks, he would be home and partially resuming his duties.
Darcy dealt with all the legal issues regarding the surviving bandits and the two dead ones. It was a routine process involving numerous questions but little else, the case being clear cut. Darcy flatly refused to allow Lizzy to be questioned and there was no need. The Darcy name alone was enough for the magistrate to inquire minimally and render harsh judgment, but the added testimony of Mr. Anders and Phillips left no doubt.
Faced with the doctor's proscription, Darcy was unable to make love to his wife until they returned to Pemberley, a decision Lizzy was none too happy about. She could not argue the logic in being cautious, but she was not pleased. Darcy feared her fragile emotional state far more than curbing his own desires. As in April, the thought of harming his wife or their unborn child was so horrendous that his personal lust was easily cooled. However, remembering Lizzy's verbalized assumption that he would be repulsed by her after Victor's disgusting caresses, he desperately longed to show her how wholly unfounded her apprehension. The balance allotted him the ability to embrace her, caress her body tenderly, kiss possessively, and whisper words of adoration without becoming unduly aroused. In the end, these minor liberties probably allayed any residual horrors from her ordeal more proficiently than actually making love. Darcy's ceaseless fondling and devotion without physical gratification on his part was entirely selfless and effectively erased all residual memory of the thief's touch.
They were greeted on Pemberley's long avenue with a line of horse wagons, Duke Grafton's breeding mares having arrived an hour prior. Darcy hastily kissed Lizzy's cheek, abdicating her care into the steady competence of Mrs.
Reynolds, and disappeared to the stables. Lizzy would not see him until dinner that evening.
The warm familiarity and comfort of Pemberley surrounded and penetrated her very essence. They had only been gone a little over a week and Lizzy had not realized how much she missed the house. All afternoon, she simply walked from room to room, garden to garden, pausing for frequent respites at all her favorite places: Darcy's enormous leather chair in the library, the conservatory, the rose garden, the lily pond, Darcy's study, the terrace corner where they met almost a year ago and where he loved to kiss her as he said he should have done then, the nursery, and finally their bedchamber. She stood gazing out the window at the mountains, tranquility settling into her being, and she finally felt completely cleansed. All she needed now was for her husband to make love to her and all would be right.
Lizzy waited for Darcy in the parlor. She had bathed in jasmine, dressed in a new gown created by Madame Millicent which spectacularly accented her newly acquired curves while hiding her pregnancy. Her hair was lavishly coiffed and bejeweled, and she purposefully stood by the large window with the soft rays of sunset illuminating. The effect was as she anticipated. A freshly washed and elegantly dressed Darcy entered and stopped dead on the threshold, mouth dropping in awe and evidence of desire instantly apparent.
“Elizabeth,” he croaked, “my God, you are stunning!” He crossed in quick strides, enfolding her outstretched hands and unabashedly admiring. He shook his head slowly, raising his gaze with difficulty to her beaming face. “You cannot truthfully expect me to calmly consume a full course meal with you sitting next to me like this?”
Lizzy laughed, stepping closer until brushing lightly against his chest. “I seem to recall wise words uttered that anticipation is sweet. Sound familiar, lover mine?”
Darcy groaned, feathering fingers over the generously displayed tops of her breasts. “This may well be my undoing, Elizabeth. I so want you!” His eyes were pleading.
“I have cut the courses in half, William. No dessert, as that shall be served in our chamber. I want you as much, beloved, as you shall see. All night long.” She kissed him lightly, Darcy bending to prolong the enjoyment but she pulled away. “Come, my heart. I am starved and I know you have not eaten all day. You
It was a struggle for them both. Lizzy distracted her husband by inquiring as to the horses, and Darcy finally wrenched his gaze from her bosom to his plate as he spoke animatedly about the mares. Gradually, they calmed enough to dine, both of them quite hungry—Darcy especially, who ate a massive quantity as he talked. The meal passed pleasantly, passion quenched for a time in the joy of companionship and fine cuisine. Lizzy finished well before her husband, sitting back as she sipped her wine and observed him in happy serenity.
She was captivated by his face. She knew now why he presented to the world such a severe, regulated countenance. It was because without that rigid control, every thought and emotion was communicated on his face
