by Brenda Webb
Opening the cover, she discovered that something was written on the first page. Her expression grew serious, and a lump formed in her throat as she read.
Presented to my darling wife, Elizabeth Rose Darcy, on our wedding day,
July 15, 1812.
Only God knows the times and seasons and the number of days He has allotted us, but I shall thank Him each and every day that I am privileged to call you my own, no matter how short the measure. For eternity would not be long enough.
Forever your loving husband,
Fitzwilliam
Laying the book down, she threw herself into his arms. “Oh, Fitzwilliam, it is lovely! I will treasure it. I know that we shall have more than enough love to meet whatever the Lord sends our way.” She sniffled, shaking her head vigorously in order not to cry anew. “Today you have made me the happiest woman on earth!”
He captured her mouth in a kiss that quickly intensified from tender to torrid. His hunger for her soared, and in seconds he had backed them against the wall. His desire was evident as he pressed his body into hers while exploring the softness of her breasts. Feeling her back arch as she melded into him, his passion grew. Sliding one hand down to lift the hem of her gown, that same hand moved slowly back up her stocking-clad leg until it reached the silky skin of her naked thigh. Elizabeth moaned softly, bringing him to his senses.
Breaking the embrace, he stepped back as they both gasped for air. She looked so innocent, her eyes darker and wider than ever before, and he was reminded anew that she was not yet one and twenty. Resolving to be very gentle, he brushed his fingers over her cheek.
“My love, I believe it is time we retired.”
Elizabeth nodded and in mere seconds their clothes were righted, the safe was secured and they exited the library. Shortly afterward, they stood outside the door to Elizabeth’s sitting room.
“When should I return, my love? Will half an hour suffice?”
Too affected to answer, Elizabeth nodded. With that, he kissed her forehead, turned the knob and pushed the door open. She walked just inside and stopped to look over her shoulder.
He murmured hoarsely, “Soon, Elizabeth.”
~~~*~~~
The instant the click of the door signaled that he had departed, Macie came rushing into the room from the dressing room. An accomplished lady’s maid at five and thirty, she had been hired by Lady Ashcroft to care for Elizabeth when she moved into Darcy House.
“Let me assist you, Mrs. Darcy. We have much to accomplish before your husband returns.” In a daze, Elizabeth followed her into the dressing room where Macie began to help her out of her clothes. Once down to her shift, the servant picked up a pitcher and poured some water into a large bowl. “The water is still warm, and here is a fresh towel.”
Elizabeth smiled, took the towel and walked to the bowl where she began to wash.
“While you are occupied, I shall collect your clothes from the wardrobe in your bedroom. I hung them there earlier. Oh, and Lady Ashcroft left you some of the lovely cream she swears by.” She motioned to a jar on the dresser. “It makes the feet and hands very soft, according to her.”
Before very long, everything had been accomplished, and Elizabeth was dressed in her new nightgown.
“You look lovely!” Elizabeth blushed as the maid held out the robe. “Do you wish to put on the robe or shall I take down your hair first?”
“The room is quite warm, so I shall wait.”
“Then if you will have a seat, I will begin.”
As Elizabeth moved to sit in the chair in front of the dressing table, Macie began to search the surface of the dresser as though looking for something. Apparently not finding it, she turned to examine the room, her expression one of puzzlement.
“I seemed to have misplaced the hairbrush. Perhaps I laid it down when I was retrieving your gown from the other room.”
With those words, the maid disappeared into the bedroom, and in the peaceful interlude, Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to remember Aunt Audrey’s counsel of only a few days prior.
“Remember, Elizabeth, the marriage bed is a marvellous gift from God and something to look forward to! Give no weight to foolish old wives tales, but listen to one who has known a love like you share with Fitzwilliam. There may be some pain, but it is quickly forgotten with the passion that follows. Where each is dedicated to the happiness of the other, there is great satisfaction to be had in your husband’s arms.
“And, if I may share something that I learned years ago, a man does not want to be kept ignorant. Let him know when he gives you pleasure, and that you desire him as much as he desires you. It will make your union all the sweeter.”
Several minutes passed before Macie reappeared. “I apologise that it took me so long,” she declared, holding up the brush. “It had fallen off the bed and was hidden beside the table.”
“No apology is necessary,” Elizabeth said, pleased to have had a few minutes of quiet reflection.
Laying the wayward item on the dresser, the maid quickly set about the task of taking the pins from her mistress’ hair. Only then did Elizabeth take time to inspect herself in the mirror. Instantly she crimsoned, embarrassed at how little of her body the gown concealed. Though she had selected the design of her wedding gown herself, William’s aunts had insisted on choosing the fabrics for her nightgown and robe. Both were fashioned of the sheerest, champagne-coloured silk, and the diaphanous material clung to her every curve.
When her aunts had selected this fabric, she had pondered how any trim could be affixed to something so sheer, but trimmed it was with the palest blue satin piping around the hem and sleeves and the plunging neckline. Several gathers were fashioned from bosom to waist, each edged with the same piping and laced with blue satin ribbons. The ribbons tied in the front, closing the gown. Once they were freed, the fabric was so flimsy it would simply float unfettered to the floor.
Crossing her arms in a bid to maintain some modesty, Elizabeth was watching the maid work on her hair when a knock on the door caused them both to jump.
Macie’s eyes grew large. “He is early! I have only just now removed the pins!”
“It will do as it is,” Elizabeth assured, patting the maid’s arm. “You may go now.” Macie curtsied and instantly disappeared through the servant’s corridor.
Alone now, Elizabeth frowned at the image in the mirror. Very quickly she undid the braids and removed the ribbons before shaking her head to unleash a head full of untamed curls. She watched as they fell down her shoulders. Unfortunately, when she reached for the brush she found that Macie had taken it with her when she rushed from the room. Sighing, she ran her hands through the strands in an effort to tame the natural curl without success. With no choice, she gave up all efforts and stood to face the door.
“Come in,” she said as steadily as she could muster.
William stepped inside the room, looking simply magnificent in a black, satin trimmed robe. A very handsome man, he had always cut an impressive figure with his broad shoulders and slender waist. Just seeing him could twist her stomach in knots, but the way he looked at this moment caused the blood to rush through her veins. Captivated, she could not keep her gaze from dropping to his robe. It was so loosely tied about the waist that it stood open, exposing his naked torso. Elizabeth had dreamed of seeing William shirtless again since the night she spent with him at Ashcroft Park, and tonight proved no less intoxicating. It was impossible to keep from following the fine, dark hair covering his toned chest as it trailed down the chiselled muscles of his abdomen, only to disappear under the belt about his waist. Her gaze dropped to his bare legs and feet and it became clear that he was completely naked under the robe. Her throat suddenly dry, she swallowed hard.
Again meeting his eyes, she resisted the urge to cross her arms when his own gaze drifted downward to her breasts. Instead, she tried not to appear disconcerted as he carried out his inspection. When their eyes locked again, his were smoldering with hot, fier
ce desire. Yet he did not come any closer. Her brows furrowed.
“Fitzwilliam, is anything the matter?”
Instantly she was enfolded in his arms. “No, my darling! Forgive me if I caused you to think otherwise. I was just stunned to realise that you look exactly as you did the first time I laid eyes on you. Your hair—”
Elizabeth’s hands flew to her wayward curls. “Oh, my hair! Macie took the brush when she left and—”
William captured her fretful hands, bringing both to his heart. “You will learn that the more tousled your hair, the more I love it.”
She giggled nervously. “You will be easy to please then, for when I wake in the morning, it is always wild.”
“I love wild,” he murmured in a way that bewitched her. Then he captured her lips in a searing kiss and picking her up, began to make his way through the door to her bedchamber.
Once inside, he set her on the thick carpet and both of their heads turned to examine what had been accomplished since she had gone downstairs earlier. Startled at the transformation of the room, she gasped.
The room was heady with the scent of roses. Tall crystal vases, filled with red roses interspersed with baby’s breath, sat on every possible surface. Rose petals were strewed about, including the floor and the bed. Candles had been lit and gave the room a warm glow. The red and gold damask counterpane had been turned back to reveal luxurious cream-coloured silk sheets. Extra pillows had been fluffed and placed against the elaborate headboard.
Turning back to face each other, Elizabeth smiled a little nervously. It was only a moment before William’s hands worked their way down her back to pull her hard against his arousal. He groaned and began undoing the ribbons fastening her gown. Once they were almost all undone, he hesitated.
“Do you know how much I love you, Elizabeth?” She nodded, and he smiled as his fingers traced gently over her jaw. “On my fourteenth birthday, I knew for certain that my parent’s marriage had begun to crumble. I was broken hearted, so I asked God for a glimpse of the woman He had destined for me. It was then that He placed your image in my heart. I had no idea of your name or where you were, but I knew without a doubt that someday you would come, and when you did, I would recognise you. When we met in Meryton, I knew that you were the one destined for me.
“Circumstances and fate had delivered a cruel blow, and I had made a decision that went against my better judgement. Instead of trusting God to handle the situation, I took action. Consequently, I found myself trapped in a spiteful marriage, convinced there was no hope. But God forgave my pride and redeemed my mistakes. In His mercy, He has even given you to me, and I intend to do everything in my power to make you happy for the rest of your life. I want tonight to be a beautiful memory.”
“I know that you shall be gentle. I am not afraid, and I want to be your wife in every way.”
Pushing the sides of her gown apart, the silky material slipped off her shoulders and to the floor. His breath hitched at the sight of her, and for a moment, he could not move. Then driven by his growing need, William picked her up and moved to the bed where he gently laid her atop the pillows. Swiftly untying his robe, he shrugged it from his shoulders and climbed into the bed beside her.
Whispering words of adoration, he placed hot kisses over every trace of her softly scented skin. “I shall love you forever… my love… my world.”
The evidence of his passion was visible on her fair skin as he gently nipped down her neck to the juncture of her shoulder, causing her to writhe. Pleased by her response, he kissed across her décolletage and then to her generous breasts. Unable to resist any longer, he captured one hard centre in his mouth while his hands caressed every inch of her body.
“Make me yours, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth murmured, entwining her fingers in his hair. “Love me.”
Without hesitation, William lay atop her, a groan of pleasure escaping his throat as their bodies melded one into the other. He felt her flinch the moment they were joined and opened his eyes in concern. Her dark eyes were full of immeasurable love as she pulled his lips back to hers, murmuring, “Oh, how I love you.”
Torn between the pleasure of loving the woman he adored and trying to be gentle, William found it progressively difficult to concentrate on anything but reaching fulfilment. Pleasure built upon pleasure, and just as he began to feel as though he might surrender to the chaos pent up in his body, a quivering deep inside her signalled that she had reached completion. Self-control forgotten, he closed his eyes to absorb wave after wave of ecstasy, crying out, “Elizabeth!”
For some time afterward, they still lay joined, unwilling to sever the connection. When at last he rolled over, he took her with him, so she lay on top. He pulled the sheets over them, and their breathing slowly returned to normal as they floated down from the pinnacle of love.
At length, he bestowed a soft kiss atop of her head, whispering tenderly, “Your love is sweeter than my soul ever imagined, my darling Elizabeth. All that I am or shall ever be, I owe to you.”
Overwhelmed, she could say nothing. Instead, she placed a kiss on his bare chest before embracing him even more tightly and drifting off to sleep in his arms.
Chapter 47
London
Matlock House
The garden
Several days later
Holding open the wrought iron gate that led to the rose garden, Mr. Meadows, the Matlock’s gardener, removed his well-worn hat and stepped aside to allow the two women coming down the gravel path access to the fenced section. Through the years, the master’s sister, Lady Ashcroft, had always treated him with the utmost respect and kindness, and as he bowed a slight bow, Georgiana gave him a large smile. He returned the smile. She seems to be following in her aunt’s footsteps.
“I do believe the garden is more beautiful this year than ever before, Mr. Meadows,” Audrey Ashcroft remarked, stopping just inside the gate and causing Georgiana to almost run into her.
“Thank you, madam. I try my best to keep it so.”
“Well, if you should ever decide to retire to the country, you always have a position waiting at Ashcroft Park. And I shall tell my brother as much, so do not worry about his hearing of my offer. If he is not careful to keep you satisfied, you shall be working for me.”
Shaking his head at her words of praise, he chuckled. “Oh, I cannot complain, your ladyship! Lord Matlock has been most kind to me.”
“I am glad to hear it. He should, you know. This garden is the talk of London!” Mr. Meadows, bent now with age, actually crimsoned with her continued praise. The colour contrasted starkly with his mop of white hair. “Do not let me disconcert you, Meadows. You are an excellent gardener.”
He dropped his eyes. “Thank you, madam.”
At that moment, a kitchen maid came into view, coming towards them down the same path and carrying a large tray.
“Come, Georgiana! Let us hurry and be seated. That tray Meggie is carrying cannot be light, and I am sure she wishes to rid herself of it as soon as possible.”
Lady Ashcroft and Georgiana hurried towards the round table located in the middle of a large, flat stone patio. The old gardener waited at the gate for the young maid, tipping his ragged hat as he acknowledged her.
“Morning, Miss Meggie.”
“’Morning Mr. Meadows,” was her reply. “Thank you!” she added as he held open the gate.
Watching as the maid reached the table and set the tray down, he sighed when Lady Ashcroft poured a cup of the hot liquid for Georgiana. Memories of when he was a boy came rushing back. Oh, his family might not have had tea, but he had fond memories of his mother serving him a cup of milk. Having never married, he had no family left now. Thus, oft times he would try to catch a glimpse of the family taking refreshments in the garden, as the domesticity of the scenes always filled his heart with warmth. Just knowing that he had provided a pleasant setting to enjoy the out of doors made him feel, in a small way, that he was a part of them.
Satisfi
ed with the prospect presented by aunt and niece, Mr. Meadows hurried in the direction of the garden shed, eager to rid himself of the hoe that he still carried and return to the kitchen. Aware that he had been up since daybreak, since they were always the first two to rise, the cook, Mrs. Mulvahill, always saved a bun and a piece of bacon for him to have at this time of day.
~~~*~~~
“But I do not understand why we cannot just go over there!” Georgiana complained, dropping a half-eaten biscuit on her plate. “It will only take a few minutes, and I promise I will leave whenever you say.”
“Your brother and Elizabeth should be afforded privacy on their honeymoon. I have no intention of disturbing them!”
Pouting, her niece did not look up as she replied petulantly, “Millicent Mooneyham is to accompany her sister when she leaves on her wedding trip. In fact, she tells me that taking a sister with you is not uncommon. Why could I not go with my brother and Elizabeth to Pemberley? After all, it is my home, too.”
“Your brother deserves to focus on his happiness now! He has looked after you in every fashion, even before your parents died. You should not expect to be asked to tag along. One day, when you are older, you shall understand why. I dare say you will not wish to be disturbed on your honeymoon, either.”
Ignoring her aunt’s arguments, Georgiana continued. “But if they truly wanted to be alone, why did they stay in Town?”
“You know that Fitzwilliam did not have time to plan a wedding trip, thus their decision to stay here for a short while before going to Pemberley. He did not wish Elizabeth to spend her first night as Mrs. Darcy in an inn surrounded by strangers.”
“But if they are to leave for Pemberley on Thursday, I should, at least, be allowed to say goodbye.”
Audrey Ashcroft leaned across the stone table to lift her niece’s chin. She waited until Georgiana’s eyes met hers before speaking. “In the past you have been away from your brother for weeks on end and, though you missed him, you certainly did not fret about seeing him after so short a time. What is this about?”
