My Dearest Mr. Darcy

by Sharon Lathan

  The general air of gaiety was delightful, but eventually Darcy snapped. The need for even a minute of solitude with his wife multiplied to a craving hunger until he finally grasped her elbow, politely excusing themselves from the cluster of females surrounding, and led her to his study. Leaning against the door, he pulled her into his embrace as close as possible with bulging belly intruding, cupping her face with firm palms. Lizzy fully expected him to kiss her, had closed her eyes and pursed her lips in anticipation, only to open them moments later when the blissful sensation of his mouth was not felt.

  He was staring with smiling, blue-eyed Darcy intensity. “William?”

  “Elizabeth Darcy. I love you.”

  “And I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy,” she replied with a chuckle. “Was it all you dreamed of, beloved? Is your heart content now that we have married in the Darcy chapel?”

  “My heart is content married to you, my love. Today's ceremony fulfilled a family tradition and provided me the opportunity to again express my undying faithfulness to you, my precious wife. I am grateful for many things, but especially that you still love me in spite of my mawkishness.”

  “Among your many stellar attributes that heighten my love for you, sir, your mawkishness is listed. I would not wish for you to be any other way!”

  “Elizabeth, beautiful, sweet, sensual, clever Elizabeth.” He caressed over her soft neck, lips brushing imperceptibly along her jaw. “I must tell you how incredibly I love my ring. I shall wear it forever, a treasure of you. What made you think of it?”

  His lips had traveled to her ear, Lizzy rapidly succumbing to the allure of him. “Hmm… I wanted to make this occasion exceptional, to surprise you. I do not actually know what made me think of it. I guess it was you planning my ring, an additional token not really necessary as I told you.” She withdrew, lifting his chin to peer into his eyes seriously. “William, you never fail to gift me with something special. You are far better at such things than me, despite your assertions to being uncreative.” She kissed him lightly. “I wanted you to have a tangible remembrance of this day. To express how profoundly moved I am by all you do for me. William, I love you so very much!”

  She kissed him fiercely, Darcy pulling her closer and responding with yearning. Seconds later she broke the kiss, eyes less than an inch away as she stroked softly over his face. “The ring is symbolic of our love. Strong as metal, precious as gold, brightly shining, and without end. I know you will treasure it, but I want you to understand that if it is uncomfortable in any way, you do not need to wear it. I know it is odd. I also know you; on or off your finger you will revere what it represents and cherish it.”

  Darcy was shaking his head with increasing vigor, finally halting her words with his mouth on hers. “Stop, Elizabeth! I love the ring and will wear it for all the reasons you stated. Nothing you give me in love could be uncomfortable or odd. In fact, quite the opposite. I rarely wear the Darcy signet, as you know, because the weight bothers me especially when I am working. This,"—and he held up his left hand, glittering gold band at home on his slender finger—"feels as if it belongs, as if it has always been there.”

  He grasped her hand, lifting for a lingering kiss to each fingertip. Then he grinned, “See how you have altered me. I am not the faintest bit embarrassed to flaunt my emotional qualities for all to gawk.”

  Lizzy laughed. “I delight in this, my lover. However, I rather like the severe, reserved man I fell in love with. Save the worst of your saccharine aspects for our intimate moments; otherwise, the boys on the play yard may torture you.”

  He laughed richly. “I always could prevail over the other boys, so I have no fear.”

  “Braggart,” she teased.

  “Yes, this is true. Darcy of Pemberley, prideful and arrogant. And now I have you by my side to heighten my conceit. Add a perfect child to the mixture and I shall likely be uncontrollable in my vanity. Whatever shall you do with me?”

  “Unleash Dr. Darcy to restore your humility through biting sarcasm. First, however, I wish to passionately kiss my handsome husband for several minutes. Contain yourself as best you can, my lover, as we do have guests to attend to.”

  “I make no promises,” he mumbled with lips already occupied in pleasanter pursuits than talking.

  In the end they did manage to restrain their baser impulses… barely. The partying would continue late into the night, one meal melding into the next. Most of the guests would end up dwelling at Pemberley for the night, either because they lived a distance away, such as the Drurys and Sitwells, or because the gentlemen were too intoxicated and women too exhausted to travel. Pemberley had not hosted such a lively and large gathering for months, most of their previous dinner parties modest affairs. As typical Lizzy was extroverted, seemingly everywhere at once, and in every way the perfect hostess. Also typically Darcy was reticent, even the group of only friends and family wearing at times. Nonetheless, his happiness was apparent to all, the constant smile and glittering eyes belying his aloof pose. To this crowd of folks who had known Darcy the man for years, he was downright ebullient.

  In point of fact, the Darcys enjoyed themselves immensely, Lizzy so weary she needed to be carried up the final flight of stairs and long hallway.

  “One of the drawbacks to a manor Pemberley's size is how far apart all the rooms are,” she muttered sleepily against her husband's neck.

  Their second wedding was not consummated that night, but it did not matter overly to Darcy. After all, he had the remainder of his long life to make love to his adorable wife. And this was a mission he accepted gladly and would accomplish frequently with utter joy.

  DAMNATION!” DARCY MUTTERED, THROWING the letter onto his desk and rising to pace in agitation to the window. He stood for a time staring sightlessly as thoughts whirled. Finally with a heavy sigh he turned and exited the room. Seeking the nearest footman, he was informed that his wife, as suspected despite the dreary weather, was in the garden.

  It was a week after their renewal ceremony, the guests all returned to their homes except for Dr. Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam. The two bachelors were currently riding, Darcy assumed, since they had asked him to join their excursion. Unfortunately a recently delivered pile of letters from Mr. Daniels was consuming all his time. Furthermore, the news from London would require an additional sacrifice that threatened to send him into a serious irritation, hence why he sought his lovely bride. Always her presence soothed him, but primarily it was to discuss the business at hand.

  He smiled instantly at the sight of her dressed in a thick coat and old boots, wide brimmed bonnet shading her delicate skin, and bulging belly not inhibiting her from kneeling in the dirt and digging vigorously. She wore gloves as she planted the row of bulbs, but the smudges of dirt on her cheeks and neck illustrated her lack of concern for delicacy at the cost of fun. Darcy adored her lack of pretension as one of the hundreds of attributes that set her apart from all other women.

  She glanced up at the sound of gravel crunching, lighting up immediately, and sitting back on her heels. “William! What are you doing here?”

  “I needed to see your lovely face.”

  Lizzy laughed, brushing at the stray wisps of hair tickling her eyes before removing the filthy gloves. “I rather doubt it lovely at the moment, but thank you. Since you are here I shall request your assistance rising.”

  He gladly clasped the hands offered, pulling her up and leaning for a kiss. She withdrew slightly, halting him with a chuckle. “Kiss me and you will likely get dirt on your face.”

  “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

  Several minutes later she was laughing again as she wiped his soiled nose and brushed over the specks on his jacket. “I did warn you.”

  “Sit, my dear. Aside from your delightful kisses, I do need to talk to you.” Lizzy noted the tone of seriousness, turning to him the moment they assumed seats on the marble bench. Darcy clasped her hands, meeting her eyes with a faint, forced smile. “You know I receive
d missives from Mr. Daniels.” She nodded. “It is as I feared. I must travel to Town to attend to business matters. You know I hoped to avoid this, but never actually thought I would succeed. Perhaps in time I will manage to conclude all business issues from the distance of Pemberley, but not yet. For too many years I conducted a large quantity of my affairs from the city.” He paused, softly stroking her pale cheeks. “I am rambling to divert the moment when I must face your tears and control my own. Elizabeth, I am so very sorry!”

  She swallowed. “Hush, William. We knew this was a distinct possibility. You cannot ignore your responsibilities. When…” her voice caught, “when will you leave?”

  “Tomorrow, early. The sooner I depart, the sooner I will be home. I dare not wait any longer for fear our baby comes early. As it is I am taking a chance and it kills me to imagine that I…” He stopped, voice also catching. He closed his eyes, pulling her dusty forehead to rest on his. “Oh God, Elizabeth! Tell me all will be well, please.”

  “All will be well, my love,” she whispered. “George is here, Georgiana and Richard too. I am healthy and your stubborn son shows no indication that he wishes to vacate his warm cocoon anytime soon. He appears to enjoy pummeling my internal organs. Besides, if his manners are anything remotely akin to his father's, he will diligently wait until you return.”

  She too was rambling, avoiding the painful topic of her loneliness when he was away. She was not too fearful of their child's birth transpiring too soon, although anything was possible, her main heartache merely being the void created with his absence. “How long will you be gone?”

  He sighed, standing to pace in agitation with fingers jerking at his sides. “No more than two weeks. Generally I spend a month or so in Town this time of year, but always that has included socializing, which I will happily forego. I have given this quite a bit of thought and am certain I can conclude my affairs in a couple weeks. I will likely drive Mr. Daniels's entire firm insane with my surly attitude and rude haste, but it cannot be helped. Additionally I will surely insult someone by rebuffing a dinner invitation. Nonetheless, I refuse to be parted from you for too long. Propriety be damned! I need to be here!” He whirled around, pebbles flying. “Elizabeth, tell me not to go and I will not. Say the word and I will find a way around this.”

  She bit her lip, staring into his troubled face. “I do not need to ask if you have considered all other options as I know you to be methodical in the extreme. If there was another way, you would have discovered it.” She rose and crossed to where he stood panting and rigid, placing her palms lightly on his chest. “Later I shall tell you how much I will miss you, but for now I insist you go make the arrangements you need to depart tomorrow. Prepare your thoughts and papers so you can finish the tasks and return to us quickly.”

  “Elizabeth, I love you so very much.” He kissed her deeply, withdrawing with effort and breathing slowly to calm. “Very well, I shall make the arrangements. Meet me in our chamber in one hour. I need to be alone with you.” She nodded and he kissed her again, turning and walking briskly away without a backward glance.

  It was only when he was assuredly beyond view that she collapsed onto the bench. They had spoken several times of the potential for a trip to London. It was absolutely out of the question for Elizabeth to accompany him. In some respects the separation would be easier to handle, having already survived their first and recognizing the necessity for such partings as a fact of life. However, the timing with their firstborn so near to arriving added a drama to the severance that was horribly painful, especially to Darcy. Lizzy would be home, safe with family and friends. Darcy, conversely, would be alone with guilt wracking him and, heaven forbid, if anything tragic occurred, he would assuredly never forgive himself.

  Lizzy had wisely known that only through action would he prevent succumbing to his distress. A whirlwind of frantic activity ensued, Darcy barking orders immediately upon entering the house. If the servants were momentarily stunned by the discourteous commands and stormy visage of their generally polite and buoyant Master, they quickly ascertained the cause. Nodding sagely and with compassion, they carried out the instructions hastily. Of course the staff was abundantly familiar with their Master coming and going, more than capable to handle all arrangements for a rushed departure.

  Nonetheless, it was closer to two hours before he reached their chamber. Lizzy had conquered her sadness finally, washing and changing into Darcy's silk shirt to await his arrival. Sitting on the sofa before the fire as she attempted to allay her melancholy unsuccessfully, her unhappiness led to a bout of tears and then exhaustion until she fell asleep.

  Darcy entered shortly thereafter, Lizzy's cheeks dry, but red-rimmed eyes indicative of her grief. The instant lurch of desire at seeing her in his shirt was quickly cooled by the evidence of her tears. Kneeling beside and smoothing the hair off her forehead, he leaned for a soft kiss.

  “Beloved?”

  She turned sleepily into his ready embrace, murmuring his name as her arms snaked over his shoulders. “Hold me, William.”

  “Forever.” Lifting her to their bed, he stretched beside, enveloping completely and tenderly caressing with only deepest love ruling. For a long while they held each other. Darcy was content to snuggle close, feeling her warmth and softness. He delighted in the occasional nudges of their healthy child. Burying his face and hand into her luxuriant hair, and smelling the heady aroma of her perfume was more than enough to pacify his heart. It was Lizzy who moved first, lifting her head from its comfortable rest on his inner shoulder to gaze upon and stroke his beloved face.

  Everything slowed down. Time appeared to halt, or at least drag along gradually. Very few words were spoken as Lizzy incrementally undressed her husband. The familiar joy and passion was there with an undercurrent of sorrow tempering the usual rage of heat. As they kissed and caressed with the rising fervor muted, they realized that their prolonged adoration was as much about the yearning to express their mutual devotion and further burn the image of the other onto all five senses, as it was about the desire to make love in some unforgettable manner.

  They moved about the bed in all directions, needing to touch each other and view each other from all angles. Darcy removed his shirt, desiring to bare his wife to feasting hands and eyes more than experiencing any heightened ardency elicited by his garment. In truth, nothing augmented his passion more than her natural state. He reached for the ointment, massaging reverently over her expanded belly while she sat astride his thighs and played with the downy hair on his chest.

  “Will you do this while I am gone?” he asked softly.

  “Yes, although it may remind me of every time you perform the task and the natural outcome.”

  She was attempting levity, but her voice broke at the end as the truth of her jest brought her sadness crashing down. Darcy frowned slightly, gazing into her eyes with disquiet.

  “Elizabeth,” he began.

  “Shhhh…” She pressed her lips to his and shook her head slightly. “Say nothing, dearest, just love me.”

  “With all my heart and soul.” His kiss was hard and intense, hands working diligently over her abdomen and dipping underneath the swell to brush over sensitive regions. Lizzy moaned, rocking into his seeking fingers, rapidly losing herself to rising sensations of pleasure. Both were surprisingly interrupted by a particularly strong kick from baby Darcy into his father's palm.

  Lizzy giggled. “I think he wants a little attention from his papa.”

  “Can he not deduce I am otherwise occupied?”

  Lizzy laughed louder. “He is a Darcy, thus demanding and persistent. You may as well give him what he seeks and trust me when I say he will likely not take no for an answer if he is like you.”

  Darcy grinned, gently pushing Lizzy onto the bed as he positioned his body between her legs, face and hands on the beautiful swell. Currently the ripples of an insistent and active son were playing over the soft skin, Darcy amazed afresh at how evident the baby was from
so deeply inside. Lately he had noticed particularly strong pushes of what could only be a tiny foot pressing so firmly that Darcy fleetingly believed he could grasp the extremity between his fingers. He tried, nearly succeeding only to have the limb disappear and moments later reemerge elsewhere on his wife's belly.

  “How does he do that? Is he not too compacted to travel about so rapidly?”

  “One would think,” Lizzy answered with a chuckle, fingers massaging over his scalp. “Yet I can assure you he manages to flip around easily, as I can feel him jabbing me everywhere.”

  Darcy was silent, mouth pressed against the soft flesh around her navel while his hands kneaded the slick oil tenderly into her supple skin, all thoughts of sexual stimulation forgotten for the time being as he diligently applied to the task at hand. He could feel every movement of his unborn child under his palms with fresh amazement. Suddenly he wondered if perhaps in the very slightest way the awe and transcendent bliss regarding all aspects of this pregnancy had diminished with even the joyous job of rubbing the cream becoming a routine step leading to greater pleasures.

  And now he would be leaving, unable to daily talk to his child and perform the duty of caring for her stretching abdomen. Pangs of dismay and guilt for allowing his approach to become anything less than the greatest delight swept through him. He frowned, kissing softly over the rising skin.

  “What is it, my love?” she asked softly.

  He shook his head, laying his cheek on her flattened navel. “Stay inside, my son,” he murmured. “Promise you will wait for me and be good to your mother. I love you, little one.”

  “Do not fret, William. All will be well.”

  As she spoke he transferred to lie beside her with body partially draped over and one hand yet rubbing the rippling bulge. He stared deeply into her eyes, propped on an elbow and toying with the loose strands of hair about her face. He was so serious, intently studying her face.