Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley (10 page)

She grasped his hands, pulling him to a sitting position. She searched his blue, love saturated eyes, tears suddenly welling in her brown ones. "Fitzwilliam Darcy," she whispered, "What a gift you are in my life! I hope you understand that as much as I yearn for you physically, and I do every moment of every day, it is your heart and soul that have captured me. If we could no longer make love for some reason I would ache for you, but I would still love you as profoundly because you live inside my very essence." She cupped his face fiercely. "Do you know this, my husband?"

Strong, warm hands palmed and stroked her neck and cheeks while he kissed her by way of reply. Passion, devotion, unity, and worship spoke eloquently through the intimate activity. In hoarse, resonant tones he said, "Elizabeth, I know I dwell in your heart and soul because you reside in mine as well. Apart from you I am shattered and fragmented. In your presence I am whole. It shall never be otherwise. I have not the minutest doubt of your love for me, beloved wife. It amazes me yet that you love me, but I do not dispute it."

Words were lost in a rapturous kiss, Lizzy loving him with a rhythmic swaying motion, arms tenaciously over his shoulders and hands weaved in his hair. Oblivious to the outside world, which thankfully remained empty of all but a few birds and one rabbit, they danced and joined in perfect harmony. Pleasures of the flesh merged with the supernatural coalescing of spirits as two souls become one, not exclusively at the pinnacle of carnal glory but for all eternity.

"Why are you standing here and staring into the stable yard?"

Lizzy turned from the window to smile at her spouse as he crossed the empty room to join her with a soft kiss. She reached to caress a cheek, speaking lowly, "This was my chamber when I stayed here nursing Jane all those months ago. Do you remember?"

"Do I remember that you slept in the room three doors away from mine? Precisely twenty-two strides away? Yes, I do."

Lizzy laughed. "You actually counted the steps?"

"Not consciously but, after passing this door numerous times over the course of those five days with an urgent desire to talk to you or at least nod politely, I noted the distance. But why are you in here now?"

"I was recalling a vision of extreme loveliness." She tiptoed to kiss his baffled face and then laughed. She turned to look outside, leaning into his chest and clasping the arms that instantly encircled her. "On my third morning here, I woke early, as I always did, and went first to check on Jane. She was still feverish but asleep, so I returned to my room and sat at this window reading. I do not know how much time passed when I saw you. Down there."

She pointed to the dirt clearing before the main stable doors. "You rode Parsifal, I swear the largest horse I had ever seen, startling me at how you barreled in full bore seeming to stop barely before colliding with the doors, and vaulted off his back in one smooth motion ere he was completely still. I had never witnessed the like. Your face was thunderous and even from this distance I could discern how heavily you were breathing. Fleetingly, I had wondered what in the world could have you so distraught, but mostly I was caught by your appearance."

She gazed up at his face, noting the remote expression in his eyes as he stared sightlessly at the yard. "You wore your typical riding clothes, your hair windblown and shirt open. You spoke to the groom, handing the reins over, and then strode briskly to the water pump. To my mesmerized shock, you grasped the handle, pumping violently, and stuck your whole head and upper torso under the stream of water. Then you stood tall, arched your back, water flying everywhere when you flipped your head backward and ran your hands through your sopping hair. Water cascaded down your body with your shirt clinging and nearly transparent. God, William! You were an Adonis!" She chuckled shakily, squeezing the fingers entwined with hers. "Of course, it all happened so fast, and before I could really assimilate a coherent thought you abruptly swiveled your head toward this window, eyes angry and piercing. I jerked backward and slipped to the floor. I was so embarrassed! I thought you had somehow detected me staring. I can still remember how hot my face was, but am even now unsure if that was due to your catching me gaping, your breathtakingly gorgeous figure, or both! Probably both."

He met her eyes, smiling his sensuous grin and firmly stroking over one hip. "Thank you for the compliment, my love. I did not see you, although I knew this was your room." He bent and kissed her upturned lips reverently, whispering roughly, "That night I had my first erotic dream of you. I woke so angry with myself and with you, as illogical as that was. Not to mention aroused as I never had been in all my life. I could not accept what I was feeling for you, thinking it unacceptable on so many levels. I was an incredible fool, Elizabeth."

"We were both fools, my heart." She pivoted in his embrace, snaking arms over his shoulders and rising on tiptoes to brush plump lips. "So tell me truthfully. Did any of your dreams include sneaking into my room and ravishing me?" His ready flush provided the answer. "Hmmm... I thought so. You know, this room is unoccupied. We could reenact your fantasy tonight if you wish." She finished with a flutter of lashes and arch grin.

Darcy chuckled lowly. "I love you, Elizabeth."

"Yes, I know."

For their last evening at Netherfield, the Bingleys and Darcys hosted a small dinner party of their own with primarily family and a few other couples, the total number around fifty. Elizabeth, deciding it was time for Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley to make a formal appearance, wore the ball gown from the Masque. Fully bejeweled and gloved, with hair stupendously arrayed, she was a vision of grace and elegance. Glowing with a radiance borne from within, fueled by a transcendent love and joy, Elizabeth was resplendent. Mr. Darcy was no less magnificent in his finery, with hair freshly trimmed by Samuel, and countenance equally euphoric as a result of his love and bliss and pride in his stunning wife.

Jane Bingley was gorgeous as well. Mr. Bingley, although not as wealthy as Darcy, spared no expense when it came to his wife. Therefore, Jane was gowned brilliantly, jeweled and coiffed and luminous. Only those guests with knowledgeable eyes could discern the finer weave or premiere cut to Elizabeth's outfit. However, every single person, most of them having known the Bennet girls all their lives, could not deny that for the first time Jane did not immediately stand out as the most beautiful of the two.

Darcy and Bingley proudly stood by their wives as they greeted the guests: Jane serene and gracious, Lizzy charming and effervescent, and both men awestruck anew by their good fortune. It was an evening, despite its simplicity, that would be gossiped about for months to come. The women in attendance would ceaselessly discuss the regalia worn; the men spoke of the fine food and spirits. All would comment on the affection displayed between both couples.

Charles and Jane, in the newfound fullness of their relationship, were nearly as giddy and ridiculous as the Darcys. Lizzy, never one to be demure, made no secret of her overwhelming love for her handsome husband. Darcy's musings were already racing ahead to how his Elizabeth would dazzle the ton of London society and his pride was boundless.

The last guest welcomed, Charles offered his arm to Jane, entering the decorated reception hall. Darcy turned to Lizzy. "Are you well, dearest?"

"Perfectly so, Mr. Darcy," she replied, smiling up at his handsome face, straightening his flawless cravat--a sort of ritual for her. "I love you, William."

"I adore you, Mrs. Darcy, more than life. Shall we then?" Arms entwined, they entered the hall.

T
HE LONDON OF 1817 was a city in-between. With a population well over one million souls, London was easily the largest single city in the world. The self-indulgent excesses of the Georgian Period had waned along with the madness of its King. While George III remained locked safely away at Windsor Castle, his son and future King, George the Prince Regent, ushered in an Age of Elegance, embracing the arts and science with all issues devoted to the advancement of beauty, style, and taste. The two wars and crushing defeats by the new United States of America were a memory, and Napoleon Bonaparte had finally been eliminated, thus permanently ending the decades-long unrest in France. This allowed a resurgence of exchange in both goods and culture, inaugurating an influx of technology, industry, and immigrants.

These intervening years, as well as those that would follow, when the Prince Regent became George IV in 1820, were years of tremendous change for Britain. London, as its capital and largest city, would reflect these changes first and to greater degrees than the rest of the country. Embracing the romantic ideals of nature and emotion rather than the serious rationalization of the Enlightenment, theater, art, literature, poetry, and architecture would radically change and flourish. The inundation of technology and science eventually led to an industrial revolution that would burst forth from London to all civilized nations of the world.

Masses of people of all nationalities and classes flooded unceasingly into the city. New suburbs, shopping districts, commerce areas, docks, housing communities, factories, and more seemingly sprung up overnight. The officials, public workers, and law enforcers groaned and strained under the added burdens engendered. Therefore--while such wonders as gas lighting illuminated the streets and houses, agricultural delights from far away places became imported, and structural marvels like new bridges spanned the Thames--pollution, crime, poverty, and the yawning chasms between the classes increased. Whereas the gap separating the richest and the poorest expanded, the middle class rose to fill the chasm. These merchants, bankers, artisans, and tradesmen eventually aided England in becoming an even stronger empire.

London, analogous to most large cities, naturally separated into localities based on class and objective. At the lowest rung were the slums inhabited by those who through choice or misfortune lived a life of poverty or crime, or more often both. These were the areas that the vast majority of London's inhabitants avoided at the risk of life and limb. Other blocks catered to business or government. Bond Street, Covent Gardens, and Cheapside, just to name a few, catered to shopping needs. Fleet Street was world renowned for its publishing. The Guildhall, Houses of Parliament, and Old Bailey at the Newgate Prison complex dealt with governmental and law enforcement aspects.

Scattered throughout London were the residential districts generally surrounding a garden square or park of varying sizes and fulsomeness depending on the affluence of the populace. The Mayfair and Kensington Districts, both bordering Hyde Park and St. James Park where the Royal Palace stood, were unarguably the wealthiest and most fashionable neighborhoods in all of London. Each locality boasted several astounding gardens and splendid houses; however, Grosvenor Square in Mayfair was incomparable. Darcy's great-greatgrandfather had been a close companion to Sir Grosvenor and, in fact, had married one of his cousins. Consequently, the Darcy family had acquired one of the initial townhouses built facing the Square itself.

The traffic entering the city was excessively congested, causing the journey from Wembley to the townhouse to take as long as the entire distance from Longbourn! The unrelenting noise and stench of multitudes of horses, fireplaces, sewage, and heaven only knows what else had seriously affected Lizzy, educing a stabbing headache and severe nausea barely held in check. Darcy was extremely disturbed, frantic to reach the house, and mad with frustration as there was no way to speedily do so. Upon finally arriving late in the afternoon, an ill Lizzy insisted on walking into the house despite Darcy's intention to carry her. He opened his mouth to argue, but one glance at her pale yet determined face and he pinched his lips into a thin line, remaining silent. She leaned heavily against his side, steps sluggish, but managing with a reserve of strength truly remarkable under the circumstances. Darcy was nervous but proud of her indomitable spirit. She was quickly reintroduced to Mrs. Smyth, the housekeeper, and Mr. Travers, the butler, then rushed to the master chambers while commands issued forth from a stern Darcy and were hastily discharged. In consequence, the first night was rather chaotic with Lizzy violently ill, Darcy fretful, and Georgiana worried and forgotten.