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Mr Darcy's Cottage of Earthly Delights

Page 13

by Beth Massey


  Darcy moaned with pleasure, but somehow the awareness of where they were managed to break into his consciousness. Abruptly, he pulled away. He was in Derbyshire and lust had almost overwhelmed him on the road to Pemberley. Horrified with his lack of control, he pulled back from her. They were in an open curricle that laid their activity, open to the eyes of any neighbours, staff or tenants who might be passing. As easily as he had deposited her on his lap, he now removed her as though she was something repugnant. Her beautiful eyes, still filled with passion, seemed unable to focus as they looked at him with bewilderment.

  His breathing was ragged and his arousal missed the warmth of her body nestled above it. It was so very difficult to control his passion for her. As he struggled, he heard himself say, “Lizzy, we must stop, but I have a plan.”

  7

  LIZZY AND DARCY ALMOST DID IT IN THE ROAD

  Elizabeth studied her hands in an attempt to avoid eye contact with Fitzwilliam as the curricle lurched forward again. Never before had she acted improperly until the cottage! She had never been kissed or even known, with any certainty, what it meant to behave in a lewd manner. She had allowed herself to be naked, caressed, kissed and poked. Now, because of her wantonness, they had done something so very scandalous on a public road… for any passing conveyance to see. It had been left to him to pull apart from her; and the mortification she felt for her inability to control her passion threatened to overwhelm her.

  Prior to meeting him, her conduct and manners had been impeccable—even he had said so in his letter. Now she was guilty of actions much more forward and inappropriate than Lydia’s. The memory of his disapproval of her sisters caused Lizzy to fear his opinion of her. She had forced herself on him before marriage. The most agonizing aspect of her deportment was her inability to curb her cravings. It was a woman’s responsibility to remain chaste, and a man’s natural inclination to attempt to circumvent that goal. She had read of this war between men and women, and she had surrendered her virtue after only one kiss.

  These urges had come out of nowhere. One day she was certain she would remain unmarried, feeling quite complacent and content with that eventuality. Then the simple act of attending an assembly had ruined her—not publicly, but certainly in God’s eyes. That night, despite having her vanity wounded, the desire had begun. As she lay in bed, she envisioned being touched, kissed and other things of which she had only the vaguest of notions. The most perplexing part of her new state of yearning was that he, the very man who had publicly demeaned her, was the perpetrator of these acts. Her awakened appetite had been gratified, at last, three days ago; and she was left with an all-consuming desire for more forbidden fruit. Both she and her moral fibre had been simultaneously banished from the garden of good and evil.

  There on the road to Pemberley, as she wrestled with her hunger for him, she decided to make a concerted effort at a conversion of sorts. She determined if she was to win his approval and justify her marriage, she must fight her wantonness. Until they were wed, she would no longer indulge in improper behaviour. As she was coming to her resolution, he spoke.

  When she raised her head, she saw he was gazing at her as he had in the cottage… giving her the very look that cruelly activated the tingling between her legs. His eyes were full of admiration, at the same time they sparkled with amusement. “I adore you Lizzy. I am sorry I pulled away, but this road is much too public for love making.” His loving smile dissipated and was replaced by a look of concern. “Why are you so very sad? Do you not want to hear my plan?”

  She lifted her head and pretended to smile. “Oh yes, I am sorry. You did say you had a plan. Have you come up with a solution to get us married sooner?”

  He replied with hesitation. “No. Mainly, I have been contemplating how we could arrange some time alone before you leave.”

  Her answer came out in an abrupt rush of air, tinged with just a nuance of uncontrolled anger. Rage that made her eyes spit a bit of fire. The look in her eyes quickly dissipated into something more akin to guilt. As he watched the transformation, her face and her words made him aware of his penchant for ill-timed and ill-conceived words.

  “If by alone you mean we could make love one more time, I must decline. You were correct in pushing me away. I have been negligent in upholding my responsibilities with regard proper behaviour. Just now I was unpardonably forward, and as you said a public road is not the place for that kind of action. I have no right to indulge in such activities before our love has been sanctioned by my father and the church.”

  By the time her words were exhaled, the guilt in her eyes had been replaced by a pooling of tears. He knew not how to persuade her she was wrong in her assessment of her morality. They rode in silence and soon his imprudent tongue decided to strike again. Since her refusal meant they were not to have any other time alone, he concluded it was time to bring up a subject of which they must speak before she left. His apprehension with the subject caused an elevation in his temperature, and soon he felt sweat accumulating on his scalp and dripping into his collar. “Lizzy, do you know the symptoms of being with child?”

  She looked at him with horror and words began to tumble from her mouth, as the pooling tears were released. “No, what do you see? Oh no, oh no, now what will I do? Is it just you or does everybody see the evidence? Do you think my aunt and uncle noticed? What will we tell my father? My family, oh… my sisters will be ruined… all because I am so undisciplined and wanton.” She put her head in her hands, and the tears became sobs… her body quaking uncontrollably with each one.

  Darcy was in agony watching her. Why had he not waited until they were somewhere he could comfort her to hold this conversation? He had to do something, but once again they were on a public road. He soon saw an opportunity, and turned into a side road and drove about a mile through heavy woods. This road cut through Pemberley’s forest and served the purpose of providing another access to the broad grassy avenue where sheep often grazed. It ended near the Grecian temple.

  Looking up as their forward motion slowed, she could see the folly in the distance. Just three days ago she had stood there soaking wet, filled with fury as she watched him approach. As she remembered their meeting, she became cognizant for the first time of the exhaustion she felt from three days of violently shifting emotions. From the temple’s acrimony tinged with jealousy, she had reached the pinnacle of pleasure and elation in the cottage. Now she was mired in some bottomless pit of misgivings and mortification.

  This time he pulled her to him not with passion, but compassion. She continued to sob and shudder against his chest, and he rubbed her back to hasten her recovery. “Lizzy, I do not believe you are going to have a baby. One thing I know is that it takes months before it is for sure or anything shows. You look no different than you did three days ago.” He kissed her hair as he planned his next words. “I just felt we should be prepared should that event occur. You must remember this! I love you, and I will always take care of you, no matter what. As long as I live, you will never have to face anything alone.”

  He listened as her sobs subsided. He willed his words to be soft and soothing, as he continued his gentle stroking. They needed to have this conversation, but he also needed to find a way to calm her. He reminded himself to keep his frustration with the ever present threat to their privacy out of his voice. “I do not know the symptoms, and I now know neither do you.” He emitted a nervous chuckle as he made that observation. “The only person I have ever been around during a confinement was my mother. I was twelve and only remember that she was often ill. I do not believe her sickness was strictly the result of being with child. She died within a year of Georgiana’s birth.”

  Lizzy spoke haltingly and her words were punctuated with sniffles. “I was only five the last time my mother was with child. My aunt Gardiner was always in London with her babies. Other than a lady’s stomach increases, I know nothing.”

  “I know someone I should be able to query without setting any tongues
to wagging amongst the ton. The person is in London, and I will pay her a visit while in town… before I travel to Hertfordshire. To speed up our wedding, I decided to have settlement papers completed before I arrive to speak with your father. When I see you there, I will have the information we need to be prepared for such an event… as a baby.”

  She sat enfolded in his arms taking comfort from his circular ministrations to her back. It was several more minutes before she spoke again. “Is this person a lady of your acquaintance?”

  “She is a woman I have known for many years.”

  Elizabeth was confused by the differentiation between ‘lady’ and ‘woman.’ She said only, “Oh.”

  Again there was a period of silence as he continued to calm and reassure her with his rubbing and kisses to her hair. Darcy pondered his penchant for saying the wrong thing. On his way to the Rose and Crown, he had put a plan together to spend an hour alone with Lizzy before dinner. It would not have been unseemly for her to rest in one of the bedrooms between her time with Georgiana and dinner. The blue bedroom, which had once been the nursery, would have been his choice to have Mrs. Reynolds prepare. His room connected, through the mistress’ chamber and a shared sitting room, to that room. If she had been instructed to ensure the corridor door was locked and the connecting door was not, he would have had discreet access. He had even thought to ensure a maid was sent to rearrange her hair and help her dress after they had spent some time together. From her reaction, it was obvious his plans must be scuttled in the face of changing circumstances. “Lizzy, I should not have suggested more lovemaking, as I am aware you are struggling with guilt. Guilt, as far as I am concerned, you should banish from your thoughts. Do you know how many marriages among those of my set that result in early first babies?” He stopped rubbing her back and pulled her tighter before he continued. “I have an awkward tongue; my pen is a much better tool. I should have writ…” Her outburst of giggling stopped him mid sentence. Soon he was laughing at his unintended double entendre and very pleased she had ceased crying.

  “Will, my love, I am finally composed and you were correct, we needed to have that conversation. Your plan would have given us time alone to talk of many things… but it is not the proper thing to do.” Her grin increased as she said, “However, I do believe that you are too hard on the proficiency of your tongue. I find it magical, but you are quite correct in surmising your pen to be a powerful weapon when it comes to pleasing me.”

  They indulged in some much needed levity as he turned the curricle around and headed back to main road. After a few minutes, he asked her whether she still wanted to spend time with Georgiana, or whether she was too exhausted from their discussion. Pleasure spread across his face when she assured him she looked forward to her time with his sister.

  “Will, I want to spend time with Georgiana. I so look forward to getting to know her better and, as you see, I have brought her a present.” She held up the book she had bought at Lambton’s book shop. “Her plan to entertain me in her special room is perfect. Besides, we will not have to deal with Mr Bingley’s sisters. Both of us should be more at ease in conversation. However, I would prefer not to stay for dinner. We could say I am tired and need an early evening. It will still be day, and you would be able to return me to Lambton in the curricle. In that way, we could have a bit more time alone to talk. The ability to speak of sensible important matters is so precious. I feel stifled by the constant threat of propriety’s restrictions hanging over us.”

  “Could I convince you to allow me one last sensible kiss before we are parted?”

  Her look was both serious and smiling as she replied, “Perhaps we would be able to detour down the road through the forest to give us some privacy once again. But we must be vigilant to protect me from that snake, and his dreaded enticing apple again.”

  “Lizzy, we are almost at the house, but we must set aside some time to speak of your guilt. It is nonsensical. I should be afforded a place, at least as prominent as God and your father, when you determine the import of your fall. The two of them are in many ways outside the pale of our love. I do not mean to be sacrilegious or demeaning of parental privilege; but I am, in my mind, already your husband. That day in the cottage as I worshipped you with my body, I was also pledging to love you; to comfort you, to honour you, and keep you in sickness and in health. I have forsaken all others because I desire only you, and nothing but death will I ever allow to part us. As the horses came to a halt, he looked over to see her looking at him with wide eyes and rapt attention. Waving away the footman, he offered his hand to help her from the curricle. He smiled the smile that made her tingle and said in a hushed voice, “You are the apple of my eye forever, luscious Lizzy.”

  Will escorted Elizabeth up the stairs to the room recently refurbished for Georgiana’s pleasure. His eyes as he gazed at her were filled with reassurance, and he even managed a surreptitious squeeze of her hand. He left the two women he loved alone. Georgiana was looking out the window when they entered. She turned at Will’s greeting and gave a timid smile to her guest.

  Elizabeth remembered admiring the view from the same window three days before. The prospect was of the bridge and the stream as it entered into the lake. The room’s décor matched her summery ensemble. The green sprigged wallpaper was offset by exquisite pink silk damask upholstery on a settee and two chairs. The pattern in the damask was roses, and the walls had more of Lady Anne’s landscapes depicting the beauty of Derbyshire. There was another view of the cottage that was even lovelier than the one in the gallery. Elizabeth noticed her skill had increased considerably between the two renditions.

  Georgiana asked Elizabeth to sit with her on the settee. “Miss Elizabeth, you look very lovely. Your frock and hair match the furnishings, had you remembered the way the room looked as you dressed this morning?”

  “I did. I was quite taken with your room when Mrs Reynolds’ showed it to us during our tour of Pemberley. Once your brother told me where we would have tea, I decided to dress appropriately. Did Mr Darcy pick the fabric and wallpaper?”

  Georgiana giggled. “He did; but I had described to him my vision of the room before I left for London. The paintings by my mother were the inspiration. There are some she painted of Pemberley under a blanket of snow, but most are with the trees in full leaf. She had a penchant for pink roses, as you see here in this painting of a stone cottage”

  Even a depiction of their cottage caused her to blush, and her subsequent thoughts made her shiver. Luckily, Georgiana had turned her attention to the tea, and did not notice her guest’s momentary discomposure. Elizabeth concentrated on the food and drink and soon her wayward imaginings were banished. Hunger of a different sort soon took over. Upon looking at the beautiful display of food spread before her, she realized she had not eaten anything since a very early breakfast.

  The two young women—soon to be sisters—talked of many things while they ate. Within a very few minutes they had gone from Miss Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, to Georgie and Lizzy. The usually reticent Georgiana asked numerous questions about Hertfordshire and Elizabeth’s family. She was particularly interested in Lizzy’s sisters—Miss Mary’s interest in music, Miss Catherine’s interest in drawing and Miss Bennet’s interest in Mr Bingley. Talking of them, calmed her nerves at the prospect of meeting them soon. Lydia’s interest in officers finally brought the conversation around to Wickham.

  Lizzy shook her head at her own gullibility to the man’s spell. “He thoroughly charmed me upon our acquaintance. Every utterance was so very polished, and I never once doubted the truth of his words. I now know he was well trained in this accomplishment, much as I have heard you are at playing the pianoforte. The more you rehearse the better you become. Mr Wickham, I believe, has practiced a great deal and is quite proficient at forming the perfect expression for each particular recipient.”

  Georgiana sighed, “Oh, yes, I fell for every pretty speech he made… telling me of my beauty, of my grace, of my playi
ng, of my singing. He told me how he knew even when I was a child how good my heart was, and how he had admired me since I was twelve. I must admit it felt wonderful to be so esteemed, and to believe myself worthy of being loved.”

  “Georgie, you are worthy of being loved… a little young maybe, but definitely worthy. I did not know you when you were twelve, and I have only known you a few days; but I am convinced you have a kind heart. Your brother speaks of you often with much love and pride. Praise of you was ever on his lips in both Hertfordshire and Kent. Not the self-serving flattery of Miss Bingley, but genuine approbation.”

  Georgiana looked at Lizzy with a certain wide-eyed assurance, offset by just a shade of mischief. “But older brothers are required to compliment their sisters.”

  Lizzy laughed at the notion. “Maybe that is true with brothers. However, my older sister both applauds and cautions me. She is a very genial person, much like Mr Bingley, except she is more reserved. She has felt in some instances that I am too quick to judge new acquaintances, and has often reproached me for my tendency to display my quick wit imprudently. My younger sisters find fault with me more often than not.”

 

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