matter, Lizzy turned toward her comatose spouse, gently grabbed a shoulder, and shoved. He rolled onto his back with a grunt, mumbled something unintelligible, sighed deeply, and remained asleep. Finally free, Lizzy dashed to the windows and opened them wide.
She stood naked in front of the last window, allowing the cool breeze from the hills to wave over her skin, drying the perspiration, and lowering her temperature. The first few times she had seen her husband—who had not the slightest embarrassment about baring his flesh in the privacy of his quarters—positioned in front of the open window gazing at the landscape, Lizzy had blanched in shock. Darcy had laughed at her scolding, reminding her that, at three complete stories above the ground on this side and no other buildings in sight, a peeper would be in plain view on the field below and need binoculars to see into the window.
Long over her trepidation, Lizzy leaned against the edge and fingered the white chiffon curtain as her mind wandered. The Festival was tomorrow and all the plans were laid. Today the additional workers would be arriving to prepare the feast and begin setting up the pavilions, tables, and orchestra stand. Later today the musicians and other performers would be descending. In light of the chaos that would reign throughout the day, all of which would be handled skillfully by the Pemberley staff, Lizzy decided that it would be wise and fun to vacate the premises. Therefore, she had planned a picnic.
Lost to her musings, Lizzy did not mark Darcy rotating toward her side of the bed and reaching. His hands pressed into the hollow formed by her head and body, mumbling sleepily as he roused. Yawning and opening his eyes groggily, he spied his wife poised majestically by the near window. His breath caught and groin jerked at her sumptuous beauty.
“Elizabeth?” He rose onto one elbow as she turned her head with a ready smile. “Are you well?”
“I am fine, dearest. Merely soothing my scorching skin, thanks to my own personal heater.”
He extended his arm, palm up “Come back to bed. I shall only heat you further in a pleasant manner.”
Lizzy laughed, launching onto the bed as an exuberant child, Darcy instinctively adducting his limbs to protect sensitive regions. She attacked his ticklish sides briefly, but he need not worry overly as his wife was exceedingly cognizant of all his delicate areas and had no intention of harming him. Instead, she stretched next to him, kissing over his chest as she rolled him onto his back. Arms crossed above his nipple line, Lizzy rested her chin on his arms and happily stared into his face as he played with her hair.
“Mr. Darcy,” she began, Darcy raising one brow at her form of address, “I hereby challenge you to a game of croquet during today's outing. Are you up to a beating?”
“It is my duty to inform you, Mrs. Darcy, that I am quite skilled at croquet. I would hate to humiliate my wife in front of all our guests, but I cannot back down from a challenge once extended.”
“We shall see,” she smugly rendered, directing her focus to the nearest nipple, Darcy sighing happily. She tantalized with lips and tongue all about his hard chest, croquet challenges rapidly forgotten by both. Rising eventually, she straddled his thighs, bending over to caress further along his muscles. Darcy stroked her smooth skin wherever he could reach, as aroused by the feel of her body under his hands as by her actions.
Lizzy stimulated him unhurriedly, always moved by the impression of his flesh touching hers. The pulsating power and raging heat of him pressed against the swell of her belly was a beautiful reminder of his strength and desire for her. Frequently their eyes met between their studied gazes that cherished the body of the other, his dark with passion and hers smoldering, both rimmed with unbridled love. She lightly fondled, Darcy groaning with eyes closing in sheer ecstasy, hands stroking her inner thighs.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered with a throaty rumble. “Lord, that feels good. Please do not stop.” She obeyed, rousing him further and further, Darcy reciprocating until they were both overcome.
He crazily seized her face, pulling roughly and engulfing her mouth in a penetrating kiss.
They held each other securely, stroking tenderly as they calmed. Darcy murmured sweet, loving endearments into her ears as he kissed over her face. In what was becoming a typical conclusion to their lovemaking, the baby expressed his thoughts on the subject by flipping about, easily sensed by his parents as their bodies were pressed harshly together. Lizzy giggled against his lips as the sensation felt mildly ticklish. Darcy's eyes were sparkling with mirth, the perception a bit ticklish to him as well, but primarily it was joy. Joy for this woman whom he loved so profoundly and with a greater depth each day, and joy for the healthy life created by their love and passion.
Darcy smoothed her hair, asking in a soft voice, “Is it at all uncomfortable having the child between us?”
“Not yet, although I imagine there will come a time when we will necessarily need to alter our positions. I will grow quite large in the midsection. Are you prepared, my heart, for how distended I shall become?”
He smiled and kissed her brow. “I am anxious. Then he will be readily felt and we will be closer to the moment when we can hold him. As for your midsection or any other part of your glorious body, I shall forever adore you and find you beautiful. Have no fear, precious wife, you excite me even if all I see are your toes!” Lizzy smiled with pleasure at his devotion, laughter bubbling over as he continued, “Allow me to amend that slightly. I become embarrassingly aroused merely at the thought of you. Be thankful you do not have the physical ramifications as I, since I know you are as lecherous!”
“Uncle George, may I disturb your peace for a spell?”
Dr. Darcy looked up from the enormous leather chair, where he was sprawled with one leg draped over an arm, into the earnest face of his nephew. George was reading in the library, escaping the picnic and festival clamoring that had invaded the hallways, reclining on Darcy's favorite chair primarily due to the fact that it was the one most accommodating for tall frames. Darcy was holding a rather large book clasped to his chest, the title hidden, although whether on purpose or accidentally George could not be sure.
“Of course, William. You are always welcome. How can I help you?”
Darcy dragged a chair close to his uncle, sitting and placing the book onto his lap, giving Dr. Darcy an opportunity to read the title. With a raised brow and crooked smile, he answered his own inquiry, “Ah, I see. Honestly, William, you are the married one not I, although I do have some limited experience and will happily assist if you need. Or is it pregnancy-related concerns you have?” His grin widened at Darcy's expression of amused disgust.
The book Darcy held was the medical text, boldly emblazoned with the title:
Dr. Darcy nodded seriously, all traces of humor receding. “This is wise. You know you can always count on me, son.” He smiled. “You know, William, I must applaud your enthusiasm and interest. It is the rare man who deigns to partake in matters generally deemed totally female issues. It warms my heart.”
Darcy waved his hand dismissively and flushed slightly, but he met his uncle's direct gaze with equal intensity. “Thank you, sir; it is not a tribute to my character, but rather to the rare woman I have been gifted. Someone as special as Elizabeth deserves a husband who will support her in all ways.”
“I will not argue your wife's stellar attributes, as I wholeheartedly agree with you, but do not sell yourself short.” He undraped his legs from the chair and sat up straight, leaning toward Darcy. “William, I have not been so fortunate as to find love to the degree as you have and James before you, but I do have a vast amount of experience with families and their interpersonal relationships. When one primarily encounters a family at their worst, suffering from disease or loss, one quickly notices what sets the successful, adjusted, and therefore capable of surviving trauma families apart from those who will fall to pieces. Always it is a deep devotion among the members, whether it parents or siblings or spouses. This devotion translates into the realm of childbirth as well. Those women who have strong support will manage far more capably then those who are alone or unloved. Elizabeth is blessed to have you there for her.”
“That is why it essential for me to know all I can about this process. I have seen hundreds of animal births and have a fairly firm knowledge base of human anatomy, but the books all seem vague regarding the details.”
Dr. Darcy nodded. “Yes, most would, although I daresay I could acquire a newer text than the one you hold and more comprehensive. Unfortunately, birth, as I said, is considered a female issue relegated to midwives and therefore deemed unworthy of a physician's attention, hence the lack of textual information. Personally, I believe the tide is turning on all matters sexual, and a revolution of enlightenment is approaching, but that is for another discussion. As for me, I do have superior knowledge in the field, having delivered hundreds of babies. Indian women
