With a sigh she rested her head against the cool stone, the window open with a gentle breeze blowing, and wondered for the hundredth time why she had asked Charles for an invitation. Yes, the season in London was over and anyone of any importance had escaped the oppressive heat of the city for their country abodes; nonetheless, there were always a few who remained for various reasons. Also, she had received a number of solicitations by her friends, including the sister of Sir Wallace Dandridge of Essex, a gentleman of moderate wealth and prestige who had shown a steady interest in Caroline for the past three seasons.
So, why was she here? Merely to torture herself? The truth is that Caroline could not say. For the past nearly two months she had frequently socialized with the Darcys, either in their home or the Bingley townhouse or at other venues, always avidly drawn to observing their interactions. Her stunned shock upon realizing the true nature of the love between the two had evolved into an intense curiosity vacillating between jealousy and covetousness. At times she hated Elizabeth for what she had with Mr. Darcy, yearning for it herself and persisting in a ludicrous sense of believing it stolen from her. Then she would smile internally at the happiness she witnessed on their countenances, especially the perpetually somber Mr. Darcy, with a gladness that bespoke of affection toward him that she had not realized she possessed. The concept of her being the fount of such joy in a man was a novel and appealing idea.
As these musings rambled through her brain, Caroline's attention was caught by movement on the grounds below. Illumination in the garden was cast by the nearly full moon and infinitude of stars, bathing the scene in relative brightness. Therefore, Caroline could clearly distinguish Mr. and Mrs. Darcy as the hand-holding strollers. In shock she noted that Darcy wore only his linen shirt and breeches, casual attire she had never seen him in, and that Elizabeth apparently wore no undergarments, as the outline of her legs was visible in the moonlight through her thin dress. A faint murmur reached her ears through the cracked window, but they were far enough below for the words to have no clarity.
Darcy and Lizzy wove leisurely via the flowering bushes to the bronze statue of Hercules fighting the Nemean Lion. Lizzy stepped upon the dais, placing her at eye level with Darcy. He paused, watching as she balanced on the narrow edge and with careful concentration walked heel-to-toe around the circumference of the platform, returning to her softly applauding spouse with a graceful curtsey.
“Well done yet again, my dear. Excellent balance.”
“I must keep in practice,” she said with a laugh, “then perhaps I shall be able to accomplish the task when grossly distended with
He turned, Lizzy encircling his waist with chin resting on a shoulder as he pointed to the various constellations visible in the July skies. She loosened his shirt to enable her to massage the warm skin of his chest as he spoke. They stood in serene contemplation of the heavens, both supremely content to be home as the breeze lifted their hair and carried pleasant fragrances from the masses of blooms, clean water and air, and fresh tilled earth.
Lizzy sighed happily. “It is so wonderful to be home. The city has its charms, but nothing that compares to the raw beauty of natural landscapes and the extensive gardens of Pemberley. I do so love it here and wish we would never have to leave.”
“Not even to see the ocean?”
“What do you mean?
He turned, embracing her waist. “I was thinking that later, perhaps in September when it will yet be easy for you to travel, that we could vacation on the coast. You and I only. You have never seen the sea, beloved, and I am thrilled to be the one to aid your discovery. In addition, I would have you all to myself. Does this sound appealing?”
Lizzy was smiling broadly and bouncing on her toes in excitement. “William, it sounds wonderful! Oh, to be utterly alone with you for a time! How blissful that would be.” She met his mouth with a deep sigh. They kissed for a while, slowly and teasingly, Darcy nibbling and suckling her lips while caressing over her back and hips.
Abruptly Lizzy pulled away, grasped his hand, and positioned it squarely over their child. They beamed as the baby flipped about, gazing with love and joy into eyes mere inches apart.
“I shall never weary of feeling him move, never!” Darcy declared with awe, voice husky. “I order you, dearest, to find me if I am anywhere nearby whenever he expresses the urge to exercise.” He knelt and nuzzled his face onto her belly, kissing firmly, then rising and returning to the delight of her mouth.
He kissed her deeply, probingly and absorbingly, desire rising rapidly as it always did when they touched. Lizzy untucked the remainder of his shirt, hands roving all over his back and under the waistband of his breeches as she pressed her body tightly against his. Darcy's strong hands were everywhere, caressing and squeezing. He encompassed a plump breast while lips traveled down her neck.
Lizzy arched and moaned softly, “Fitzwilliam, I want you so. Please, take me to our room.”
Darcy smoothed the hair from her face, cupping her cheeks as he kissed with sensual intoxication. “I love you, my Elizabeth,” he murmured, “so beautiful you are in the moonlight.” In tandem he rubbed his palms over her neck to shoulders, onto both breasts for gentle fondling, downward with tender strokes as he whispered words of adoration mingled with seductive kisses. “Tonight, my beloved wife, I shall love you in our bed until you are screaming in uncontrollable ecstasy. Tomorrow we shall steal away to the copse amongst the willows and there we shall make love with the moonlight and stars shimmering over your skin. All day I shall envision you there, under my body, entwined and joined with me. Will you too imagine us there, precious love, so that your ardor will equal mine?”
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly with a nod, meeting his crystal eyes. Darcy ran one hand under her skirt to her bottom, the other tangled in her flowing hair as he teased her with the tip of his tongue softly flickering over her ear and elsewhere, returning to her mouth for further plundering.
“My love. My eternal love. How I need you,” he groaned as he circled her body, powerful arms lifting her off her feet and onto the hard planes of his chest. Darcy buried his face into the satin flesh of her neck, inhaling vigorously. “Yes, I must take you to our room immediately before I ravish you right here! God, how you arouse me Elizabeth!” He stood her onto her feet, yet holding tightly in shaking arms with forehead resting on hers as he fought for control.
Suddenly he chuckled. “If any of the servants see me on the way upstairs, I shall never have the nerve to face them.”
Lizzy laughed too, reaching down to stroke the indication of his passion, eliciting a throaty groan. “Do you honestly believe your prowess and our frequent bedroom activities are not already a topic amongst the staff?”
Darcy looked at her in surprise. “Whatever do you mean?” He started to add something ludicrous about the fine staff of Pemberley never gossiping about their Master, but her laughter halted him.
“Truly, William, at times I think you more naive than I! Servants are simple folk and do not possess the vaunted and rigid moral proprieties of the elite. Trust me, I can recall more than a few overheard conversations between the maids at Longbourn, not to mention the field workers. Samuel and Marguerite are the only two who see the vivid evidence of our love, and I trust them implicitly, but the others are not imbeciles and can do elementary deductions.”
Darcy was actually blushing furiously, peering into the darkened windows as if he expected to see an audience of eyes staring back. Lizzy was laughing harder by the second as she took his hand and led him toward the door.
Caroline watched them move slowly toward the door, pausing several times for fresh kisses and extremely intimate caresses, finally disappearing from view. Her breath was shallow, cheeks flushed, and body trembling with strange sensations. She had distinctly seen it all and did not need to hear their words to know that she had witnessed a scene of indescribable intimacy and raging passion. Caroline Bingley, like most well-bred young ladies, was largely ignorant of the finer details of marital relations. The occasionally borderline naughty twittering among her friends, maidens all, was vague and steeped in misinformation anyway. Caroline did not have a mother or close female relative with which to discuss such things, her sister Louisa far too prudish to even consider, aside from the fact that she had never remotely been curious. Caroline was mercenary and narcissistic by nature, passion for anything other than clothing or jewels not of interest to her. Marriage was a necessity to fulfill those desires and if intimacy entered into the proposition, so be it. The idea of marital relations being pleasurable had never crossed her mind or entered her awareness.
However, there was absolutely no denying that what she had beheld in the garden were two people deeply in
