Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley

“Raul Penaflor, Mrs. Bennet, is the third son of a Spanish Duke, and his mother is one of many royal sisters to King Ferdinand. It is all rather a jumble of intermarriage intrigue that exhausts me, frankly.”

Mrs. Bennet's eyes had opened widely, and she was peering at Kitty and Dr. Penaflor as they completed their dance with unveiled calculation. Lizzy coughed a laugh, turning slightly to hide her face into Darcy's sleeve as Mrs. Bennet continued. “How very interesting! Has he a grand inheritance then? Or perhaps a family income?”

Dr. Darcy smiled innocently at Mrs. Bennet. “They have not disowned him, Mrs. Bennet, if that information profits you. Raja, however, is apathetic regarding his lineage and rank. I tease and call him ‘raja,’ which is prince in Hindi, yet he is indifferent. Healing is all that truly matters to him.”

Mrs. Bennet was obviously saddened at the news and chose to ignore Dr. Penaflor thereafter. The evening progressed with all in attendance enjoying themselves immensely. Lizzy danced twice, once with Colonel Fitzwilliam and then with George Darcy. Primarily, she stood happily by her husband, the two randomly conversing with all guests equally. Occasionally, she sensed Aunt Catherine's eyes boring into her, but essentially, she ignored the woman, far too delighted in the evening's gaiety to be irritated. Darcy was in a felicitous mood, smiling incessantly and laughing often. Even his trifling annoyance at his bound arm was insufficient to dampen his spirits.

Dinner was a success, Aunt Catherine and a couple others the only members to express repugnance at the exotic cuisines. Lizzy sat to Darcy's right, ready to assist him if necessary, but he managed proficiently without moving his left arm beyond the proscribed degrees. Lizzy had quickly rearranged the seating assignment so that Anne de Bourgh sat next to Dr. Raul Penaflor and quite far from her mother. She also rapidly ensured that her parents sat close to Mary and the Daniels family. Lady Catherine sat on the far side of Lord and Lady Matlock, near Darcy and Elizabeth. This, too, was on purpose. If Lady Catherine wished to “observe” Lizzy, then she would encourage the action.

All in all, it was a lively gathering. Food and wine flowed in abundance, the entire meal lasting several hours. Lizzy was amused to note Lady Catherine ingesting a vast quantity of red wine, becoming cheerful and borderline animated as the meal progressed. The Darcys shared many an entertaining glance and whispered comment, not to mention the typical loving touches that were now so natural and essential to their existence that they hardly noticed them any longer.

The largest shock of the evening came as they said their farewells to their guests. Lady Catherine approached with a shyly smiling Anne. She was a bit unsteady on her feet, yet appeared in control of her faculties when she grasped Elizabeth's hands. Peering intently into Lizzy's eyes, she spoke clearly, “Mrs. Darcy. I regret my prior actions. I may not fully approve of how Fitzwilliam went about choosing his bride, but I can no longer deny his… affection for you and yours for him. He is happy. Any fool can see that. Tonight's event has proven to me conclusively not only this fact, but also your excellence as Mistress. Thank you for the invitation. Understand that you are always welcome at Rosings Park.”

Finally alone, weary yet jubilant, Lizzy sat astride Darcy's lap as she firmly massaged the medicinal ointment into his shoulder. They talked quietly, comparing notes and laughing in remembrance. Darcy endured the massage, expressing clearly how he intended for the evening to end.

“How am I ever to manage fulfilling my nursing duties each night if you distract me so, Mr. Darcy?”

“Am I distracting you, beloved? So very sorry. Perhaps you should give me what I want so I shall no longer disturb you so.” His muffled voice rose from the vicinity of her bosom.

“Fitzwilliam,” she began hoarsely, grip faltering yet again.

He pulled her into his chest, kissing lustily as he rolled to the side with her pinned beneath his body. “Such an excellent Mistress as you, Mrs. Darcy, deserves to be rewarded in a most satisfying way. I believe I know exactly what you shall find most satisfying.”

Lizzy gasped in pleasure, yet attempted one last time to forestall his raging amorousness, “William, we should at least bind your arm…”

“Damn my arm! I love you, Elizabeth, and I have wanted you all evening. No longer shall I wait to love you, my wife, my heart and soul. Kiss me, my Lizzy!”

She did, wholeheartedly. They loved blissfully and, indeed, most satisfyingly.

Chapter Sixteen Return to Pemberley

The day in mid July when the Darcys were to return to Pemberley dawned fair with the promise of extreme heat. Darcy woke even earlier than usual, the sun barely cresting the tops of the buildings surrounding Grosvenor Square. The bedchamber remained sunken in deep shadows, the drawn curtains effectively blocking the faint rays of light. Darcy lay comfortably in that hazy realm between sleep and full wakefulness. Elizabeth lay with her head nestled perfectly in the bend of his shoulder and chest, the remainder of her lovely body pressed firmly into his with one leg draped over him. Her steady respirations indicated her sleeping state.

Darcy smiled drowsily and pulled her closer, softly stroking her hip. The prospect of being home filled him with bliss and peace. This sojourn in London, although of less duration than usual, had without any doubt been his most satisfying in recent memory. The reason was all wrapped up with the woman he held in his arms… his wife. Each event attended, soiree or ball danced at, and conversation engaged in had transcended all past ones. In addition, he had managed to conclude all pressing business, paving the way for another long tarriance in Derbyshire.

His happiness was almost frightening in its intensity. That small pessimistic part of his subconscious occasionally reared up, invading his joy with a stab of fear. His heart would clench, breathing increase, and skin cool for brief moments, all evaporating the second she looked into his eyes or laughed her sparkling laugh. He simply could not harbor anxiety in a soul so utterly invaded with love. Is that not what the Scriptures taught? Light drives out all darkness? She was his light, his lover, his breath and heartbeat, his soul.

He yawned and stretched slightly, not wishing to wake her. It was very early and, once again, they had entered their bed late. His greatest concern lately had been her health. While his arm healed and strength increased, Elizabeth had grown paler, with tiny lines of weariness appearing about her fine eyes. It was the endless agenda of visitations and parties in which she insisted they partake. Despite his assurances to the contrary, she yet fretted over his societal responsibilities and continued to foster a residual need to prove herself to both him and the ton. It angered him and they had argued over it, but she could not be swayed.

Recognizing that his irritation and attempts at logic merely wore on her already fragile emotions, he turned in frustration to his Aunt Madeline. She encouraged him to surrender and allow Elizabeth to follow through on what she perceived as her responsibility to him.

“Elizabeth is far stronger than you give her credit, William. She is well, and the child is well. She needs to do this to feel wholly competent as Mistress and Mrs. Darcy. Soon you shall be in Pemberley without the demands on your wife. In the end, this time to dazzle society and win their approval will benefit her heart and mind. Quit playing the mothering hen, and leave her be. Do not attempt to comprehend her emotions because she is a female and you will not succeed. Instead, trust me and trust her. Your wife loves you, William, and does this for you, however misplaced you deem it. Show your appreciation and quit harping!”

Thus, he had done so, as difficult as it was. His relief at the prospect of being surrounded by the solitude of Pemberley was a tangible thing; however, he could not deny that Elizabeth had dazzled the ton, far beyond what he had expected. His pride in her had grown profoundly. She was amazing in all ways and he loved her deeply for the extents she had gone to for him. Once he figuratively stepped back and allowed her free rein, it further stunned him at the breadth of her nearly inexhaustible stamina and shrewd assimilation of society's mores. She was always perfectly groomed, always witty and lively, remembered all names and gossipy facts gleaned, was suitably serious or humorous depending on the situation, never remotely overstepped the boundaries of propriety, and never once forgot that she was Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley. In all situations she shone, yet in a way that placed the spotlight equally on both of them.

If all that was not enough, she heightened his love and respect by always supremely placing his needs and desires first. She met his hungry passion with equal fervor, devoted time to be with him, and proved daily, in the minutest details, just how boundless her love, adoration, and appreciation. The unique methods she devised to demonstrate her love amazed him. For instance, each meal taken at home included at least one of his favorite