very dim and there was a slight chill to the air at odds with a Derbyshire morn in mid-August. Lizzy, naked as always and blessedly warm snuggled next to the inferno that was her spouse, had been struck by the cool room and blindly groped for the first garment she could find in the scattered piles of discarded clothing hastily tossed the previous evening. It was Darcy's shirt of finest spun silk with pearl buttons down the front. She drew it on, fastening the middle three buttons absently as she rushed from the room. Minutes later she returned, sleepily rubbing her face, and was brought up short by an audible gasp from the bed. Darcy lay propped on an elbow, eyes wide as he stared at her, an expression intimately familiar to her growing as was the evidence of his desire.
“You are wearing my shirt,” he said unnecessarily, voice huskier than she had ever heard it and eyes aflame. “Come here.” It was a curt command uttered in a tone that brooked no argument, not that it occurred to Lizzy to do so. What followed was a session of lovemaking closely rivaling, if not transcending, anything prior. The shirt stayed on throughout. Since then he had politely requested of her to wear it twice, amusing Lizzy as she would happily grant him anything especially as they were mindlessly aroused each time for reasons that neither could articulate.
The effect had not waned, Darcy now ogling with fists clenched at his sides. “Elizabeth Darcy, you are surpassingly sensual. Suddenly I am not certain how wise my request as I honestly do wish to proceed leisurely. God, how you tempt me!”
She approached, running one hand over the satin border draping his muscular chest. “As you declared, William, we have all night. Much can transpire in that amount of time. Of course, you are the master of the evening as the winner of our wager. I am at your disposal.” The last muttered faintly against his lips while her hands moved freely over the quivering flesh of his torso.
Forgotten was dinner and champagne. Forgotten were preconceived notions of lazy loving. In a burst of energy he clasped her bottom with both large hands, lifting bodily, and aided by her wrapping arms and legs about him. Swiftly they were at the bed where Darcy knelt with Lizzy yet entwined. He ran seeking hands roughly over the voluminous silk swathing her lithe frame, even the swell of their child not filling the space. Why seeing her encased in his shirt thrilled him so he could not say precisely. Partially it was the way it fell to the middle of her rounded thighs leaving her long shapely legs completely bared. Additionally the shoulder width was nearly twice hers so the gaping fabric displayed tantalizing glimpses of her collar and breasts. But primarily the reason was indefinable, Darcy only aware of a visceral surge of primal eroticism in the vision before his rapacious eyes.
It was fortunate that Lizzy unerringly responded to her husband's miraculous touch with alacrity as Darcy was frenzied in his thirst for her, extended foreplay no longer an option. He captured her breasts through the fabric, suckling and squeezing while gently lowering her to the bed, pelvis pressing harshly against her. Practically ripping the robe off his body, Lizzy's hands instantly roving and trailing fire, he joined with her in a heated rush. They loved furiously, gazes acute and ensnared. Another protracted, consuming kiss ensued, ending when a harsh growl erupted from Darcy's chest.
“Lizzy! I need to feel all of you! Oh Lord, I love you so!” His voice faded into unintelligible articulations of glory as they plunged over the edge, blissfully united in their pleasure.
He collapsed into a slump, instinctively avoiding crushing her belly as his upper body fell to the side over her thigh. Gradually he peered up at her shining face, brown eyes slitted as she watched him and lazily played with his hair. “I love how you call me 'Lizzy' in your rapture.”
“Would you rather I call you 'Lizzy' all the time?” His voice was yet harsh, naturally resonant tones always deeper in passion. Their son was rolling and kicking as he often did after they made love, Darcy absently chasing the movements with a hand.
“No. 'Elizabeth' is somehow proper coming from you, and I adore how your voice caresses my name every time. You never address me that it is not bathed with adoration and sensuality. You always have, if only I had had the ears to hear it. 'Lizzy' is uttered when you are completely undone, hence why I love it.” She stroked over his perfect nose, resting on the dimple in his chin. “I love you, William.”
He rolled, lying next to her and encasing her in strong arms. He did not speak for a bit, caressing tenderly and kissing through her hair. Finally, “I love you, Elizabeth. My Elizabeth, my wife.”
After a time of cuddling and brushing kisses, she unexpectedly giggled, looking up into his eyes. “Well, now that we have that out of the way, perhaps we can proceed with the leisurely unfolding of the evening as you requested for your victory over me. Starting with dinner, as I now have heightened my appetite.”
“I shall never consider making love with you as something to get 'out of the way'; however, food does sound appealing.” He fingered the edge of his shirt where it lay over her thigh. “You will keep this on for me, dearest?”
“What if I become cold?”
“I shall start a fire.”
“If I spill on it?”
“It can be cleaned.”
“It is rather large, William. It may fall right off my shoulder into the plate!”
“You are filling it out better, Elizabeth, so I daresay that will not happen.”
“It has a strange effect on your senses, love. Can you control yourself throughout the meal?”
“I shall endeavor to be a good boy; however, I seriously doubt you would argue terribly if I fail.”
“Awfully confident you are, sir! Smug and arrogant.”
“Yes I am, and I can tell by your expression that you are neither shocked nor dismayed. Shall I prove my conceit, my lover, or do we leave the bed for nourishment first?” He accented the challenge with a firm caress over one round swelling buttock, fingers probing, and grin wide.
Lizzy squirmed from his grasp, both laughing. Planting a glancing kiss to his lips, she stood, grasping his hands and tugging. “Come, love. Let me feed you before you faint.”
Chapter Eight
The afternoon following their Yarmouth excursion found them again reclining under the umbrella on the sand. Darcy read aloud while Lizzy sewed another baby garment. Caught up in their tasks, with the now familiar sounds and smells of the ocean washing through their subconscious, neither noted the servant approaching until he spoke.
“Pardon me, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy. These just arrived for you and here is today's
“Letters from home,” he murmured. “Mr. Keith with updates. A letter from Georgie, one from Bingley, your mother, and Mrs. Lathrop.” The latter two were taken by Lizzy, who opened Amelia's first.
Minutes passed in silent reading, Lizzy breaking the quiet first with a happy shout.
“Amelia delivered a girl!”
“Oh, how wonderful!” Darcy smiled with true feelings of joy, instantly thinking of Stephen while simultaneously imagining his own emotions when the time came. “Did all proceed smoothly? Mrs. Lathrop is well?”
“The baby was born three weeks ago now. They named her Fiona Heather. Amelia says she resembles Stephen, but has her green eyes. Oh, what a wonder!” Lizzy sighed, reading on with a smile.
“The birth… Does she speak of it?”
Lizzy glanced over to see him serious with a hint of anxiety in his pale eyes. She squeezed his hand, smiling tenderly. “She is well, love. The birth was long, she writes, as is expected, but there were no complications. Do not worry so, William. Everything will be fine, I promise.”
He pressed his lips tightly together, jaw clenching, but he nodded and returned to his letter. At odd moments as the weeks advanced, Darcy would find his thoughts dwelling on the final birth process and possible emergencies. Lizzy was healthy and very strong, as was their child by all indications, but he knew well from stories and family traumas how horribly wrong it could end. The thought of losing their baby terrified him, but not nearly as much as losing Elizabeth.
