Revelations

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  Chapter 12

  When Darcy awoke at dawn his beloved was still asleep, and he watched her sleep with intense happiness, feeling his heart swell just to see her in total relaxation, her body spread out over the bed in boneless grace. The knowledge that from now on they could be together like this every single morning and evening gave him a little thrill. He restrained himself from stroking her bare breast, it looked so tantalizing, so warm, so soft, but he felt loath to wake her up needlessly. As he left the bed, forced by his need to use the privy, her hand reached out after him, but he really needed to go, he would be right back. When he returned she was waiting for him, wide awake, smiling. He crawled in beside her and they relished their togetherness, unable to refrain from touching each other, starting slowly, but with rising ardour.

  Elizabeth excused herself to visit the privy herself, and when she came back there was no stopping them, before long they were exploring their new field of education again, with gusto. This time, Darcy didn't fall asleep instantly.

  Realising they were in their wedding bed he said, 'Good morning, Mrs Darcy.'

  Apparently she was not sated at all, yet, for she didn't just smile at him but nuzzled him as well, stroking his naked body with leftover heat.

  'Good morning to you too, Mr Darcy.'

  Oh, that still gained his attention instantly, or was it her hand on his thigh?

  No, nothing happened down there, this excitement was purely in his mind, he was a total slave to that pert tone of hers.

  'You really do react to that,' she observed with a fond smile, 'that's just so endearing! Like seeing you sleep, I thought I'd melt on the spot, you looked so tranquil. I hope I'm not the one putting such strain on you by day.'

  He shook his head and said, 'I'm sure I'll look as relaxed as that all day when we've been married for six months. Unless Georgie really starts dating an Italian pianist. I owe you an apology for falling asleep on you like that

  yesterday night, my love. That was very un-gentlemanlike.'

  'Apology accepted, I was worn out myself, I didn't look at you very long before I fell asleep with an arm and a leg around you. What's this about Georgiana dating an Italian pianist?'

  Her heat seemed to have waned now, his own was totally gone, but he nonetheless felt like stroking her hair, running his hand through her long straight tresses, as worshipful as the first time he had actually looked at her with her hair down. It was a magnificent sight.

  Languidly he replied, 'It's a joke between us, she asked me whether I would be mad if she didn't marry at all, or someone below her, and I told her she could marry a Russian pianist if he really cared about her. She was certainly interested in marrying a pianist, but preferred an Italian.'

  'And her current master isn't an Italian?'

  Darcy shook his head, 'Nor a Russian, he's a young and rather good-looking Englishman, but he seems very mild tempered, and Georgie entrusted me with the knowledge that she didn't like docile men. She said she was a true Darcy and needed a man with backbone. I haven't given up hope that she'll meet a nice gentleman, though.'

  'Imagine her saying that,' Elizabeth said fondly, 'I thought she was shy, but she had firm opinions on Miss Bingley as well, and on several more interesting subjects. That must be a real comfort to you, having your sister turn out observant and rather assertive.'

  'It is now, but she wasn't docile for nothing. I'm afraid I was too strict with her. I liked her easy to handle, but after Hunsford I looked at her with different eyes and became afraid she might be easy to take advantage of, having so little will of her own.'

  Elizabeth squeezed him tightly and said, 'Don't take everything upon yourself, Fitzwilliam! You cannot suppress someone's spirit like that, it would come out one way or the other. She most likely was naturally docile, or she would have fought you tooth and nail for a measure of independence.

  Her growing up with self-confidence does credit to you because she trusts you. You are a good and loving brother, not some kind of tyrant.'

  Then she looked him straight in the eye and added, 'Please stop berating yourself so, my love, you really weren't as bad as you say, you just were reserved among strangers. Those Hertfordshire people can silence me in a minute, too. My father never goes out because of them. Actually, he's worse than you in being disdainful, but I was always his favourite so it never

  bothered me. You slighted me, and I felt insulted. My reproofs were very personal, Fitzwilliam, and mostly hurt pride.'

  'I just hope you are right, Elizabeth. I have been so very sorry for having slighted you, I have regretted the first impression I made on you for such a very long time. I love you so much.'

  She gathered him to her and covered him with kisses, and he reciprocated with the deep love he felt for her. It was so good to fondle her and kiss her without his ardour getting in the way.

  'I just hope Mrs Reynolds will approve of me, she was very determined that no lady was good enough for her master.'

  Darcy nibbled her earlobe lazily.

  'Once she sees me totally smitten and always fondling you, she'll wonder how I managed to act so normal for all those years, and feel sorry for you.'

  Shaking her head at this totally different Darcy, Elizabeth first took her time to stroke his face, his hair, and his chest once more, then asked, 'Will we see Georgiana before we leave? I feel bad for having driven her out of her own home.'

  'We will, I've arranged to have breakfast together, a very late breakfast, and then we can talk a little until the diamonds have been fetched by the banker.

  Plenty of time to talk, I'd say.'

  Then on impulse he asked, 'Will you help me dress? I'm used to having a valet.'

  She looked at him intently, not sure whether he was serious or joking at her expense.

  'I'm going to take every opportunity to touch you, so yes. But you're not going to wear one of those strangler coats today, or during our entire honeymoon, are you? I thought we were going to be alone, mostly?'

  'I thought you liked seeing me well-dressed?' he replied, stoking up the fire a little.

  'Oh, I like seeing you dressed like a dandy,' she replied, still serious, 'and I like dressing you, and I like undressing you even more, but when we are alone I want to put my hand under your shirt whenever I feel like it. And that won't work if your coat is so tight I have to sit on your chest to get the buttons closed.'

  Then she looked at him with her eyes narrowed.

  'You're not serious, you're having me on!'

  'Of course I am, how can I climb hills with you, or catch trout with you or teach you how to ride a horse if I cannot move my arms or even breathe?'

  'I can ride,' Elizabeth observed, 'I just don't like horses. Or riding.'

  'You'll like riding with me,' Darcy stated, 'I have good horses.'

  Did Elizabeth look positively afraid now?

  'I'm not going to force you to ride, Elizabeth,' he said quickly, 'not if you're afraid to. I thought you merely found them annoying, or smelly.'

  'If I objected to the smell of horse I would certainly not have married you, Fitzwilliam. You always smell slightly of horse. Well, not now, but when you're in the country. I like it when you have horse in your personal scent.

  And anyway, do your horses smell less than my father's?'

  She was right, his horses did smell the same as anyone else's, but it was good to know she didn't object to his having a whiff of horse about him. But now she was about to tell him what really bothered her about riding.

  'I just hate being stuck on such a big, strong animal without the slightest chance of controlling it or saving myself if it were to shy or bolt.'

  Just as he was about to protest that a horse could be controlled nearly at all times, and that he had several very even-tempered riding horses in his stable, he understood. Of course! As a lady, Elizabeth was expected to ride on a sidesaddle, and Darcy could certainly understand she didn't like doing that at all. He certainly wouldn't. A bit disappointed, he was so lookin
g forward to riding together, he admitted, 'I just realised you've learned to ride on a sidesaddle. I can imagine that didn't work out for you, you're too independent for that.'

  Almost ready to give up on one of his fondest wishes an idea struck him, but it was very indecent, and Elizabeth would probably not agree to it.

  'Would you dare to have me teach you to ride astride?'

  'I would dare, but you wouldn't,' she threw at him, she honestly couldn't believe he would dare thwart decency and tradition by letting his wife straddle a horse.

  'Mrs Reynolds would certainly catch us at it. And I'd have to wear trousers.'

  Picturing Elizabeth in trousers Darcy found his ardour building up again, that was just incredible, so quickly?

  'It would be very improper, wouldn't it?' he asked, almost whispering.

  'Very much so. Your connections would censure, slight and despise you for it,' Elizabeth teased him. He had to laugh at her expression and what she

  said, but he could feel the result of his imagination getting stronger.

  'The ideas springing up in my mind thinking of you wearing trousers and straddling a horse are fit for one of those lewd books,' he breathed, truthfully.

  'Then we won't do it,' she replied, eyeing him critically.

  'If you really want me to, I'll borrow a riding dress your sister has outgrown, and try out the most docile horse in your stables to accompany you.'

  'You would do that for me?'

  Unfortunately, it was not going to be possible.

  'I'm afraid Georgiana doesn't ride, so there is no riding dress, sidesaddle or horse suitable to carry one on the entire estate.'

  For just a second, he couldn't hide his disappointment.

  Elizabeth now smiled sweetly, but also cheekily, and said, 'Then I'll have to practise straddling things, starting with....you.'

  And she was on top of him, still under the blankets, but totally nude, that was not going to help getting the idea of her riding a horse astride disconnected from lewd thoughts.

  But he was not going to tell her that, if his wish of riding together was always going to stay a wish, he would learn to live with it. Soon, any disappointment he still felt was fading rapidly under her loving hands and her ardent kisses. And when she sat up a little and down again, right on top of his manhood, he lost any capacity to think.

  They were in time for their late breakfast with enough time to spare to dress.

  Darcy needed no help to get into his hunting gear, which Elizabeth insisted on him wearing for their long journey.

  'I bet you have plenty of good clothes on your estate, just wear something comfortable on the road. And anything looks good on you anyway.'

  Why did her matter-of-fact compliments make him feel so warm, so pleased, when Miss Bingley's outrageous flatteries only managed to irritate him? Was it just love? Or was it the contrast with her teasing? It couldn't be, could it? He loved to be teased by his Elizabeth, the way she looked at him as she delivered one of her saucy comments made him feel so warm inside.

  Suddenly he realised he would change even more, having all one's follies mirrored right back but with humour could only make a person wish to get more, by acting more foolish all the time. Mrs Reynolds would be scandalized, but that could not be helped, he couldn't go back to who he had

  been, Mrs Darcy would never allow that. That sounded so good, Mrs Darcy, and he had so nearly given up hope. Never had a man been more fortunate than himself, look how pretty she was, lost in thought for a moment, though she seemed almost earnest somehow, he would have to kiss her to get her to smile at him again.

  Elizabeth wondered if she pushed him too far this time, bossing him around like that, he was used to having his own way, have others jump for him, not to having someone so much his junior, a woman at that, telling him what to wear. Maybe she should check herself a little, this wasn't Jane after all, or even her father. She was with her husband now, and he had only developed a sense of humour very recently. She did get the impression that he liked her taking charge yesterday night, very much so, and this morning, but Charlotte had warned her that men were totally different creatures in the bedroom, not a thought to elaborate on in her cousin's case, but anyway, better take a little time to see how far she could go with Fitzwilliam.

  He seemed lost in thought, though he had a little smile on his face, and now he was looking at her and he didn't seem put out, rather the opposite. The way he looked at her sometimes, like just now, for instance, it was breathtaking, he'd want to kiss her next and that was fine, but Elizabeth could hear the house coming back to life with activity, it had to be the servants preparing breakfast, or maybe Georgiana was already here.

  Shouldn't they spend some time with her after banishing her from the house all night and leaving her alone for nearly three weeks in an hour or so?

  Elizabeth seemed to enjoy the kiss, and she answered it readily enough, but it didn't make her smile, she seemed distracted. Darcy remembered reading about ladies not liking being intimate all the time, that couldn't be true for his beloved, could it? She had been forward enough yesterday evening, the very thought of that night made his knees weak, that had to have been real, she had to have enjoyed that, she told him she enjoyed it. And this morning, straddling him, a lady didn't do that from a sense of duty to her husband, it must have pleased her to do that.

  'That might be your sister, Fitzwilliam, aren't you afraid to leave her waiting all by herself?'

  It had nothing to do with him, she was afraid Georgie was waiting!

  'I don't expect her yet, my love, and if it was her and she was bored, we'd hear the piano. It's probably the staff come back.'

  That seemed to settle her, and now he did get his smile, a large, ravishing one, and a kiss that caused the rest of his doubt to vanish. Elizabeth had no problem at all being intimate, she loved it. He couldn't wait for the coming weeks, just the two of them, no duties, no visitors, no friends, no family.

  After that kiss they really had to go downstairs for breakfast, and indeed spent some time with Georgiana. She had weathered a night in Bingley's town house pretty well.

  'When we got home it was time to go to bed, though Mrs Hurst did have a few tears to help dry in Miss Bingley's case,' Georgiana reported. 'I don't know whether they were real or for my benefit, you know, to tell you about them, Fitzwilliam. But since you're married now, telling you that she cried about it will not give her another chance at you, so I guess they must have been real.'

  Since Elizabeth could easily believe Miss Bingley to be truly in love with Fitzwilliam she even managed to feel a bit sorry for her erstwhile rival. Miss Bingley had to be pretty disappointed to have witnessed the man of her dreams getting married, after seeing him fall in love with some other woman slowly, tiny bit by tiny bit, her rival someone she herself never judged worthy of any notice, helpless to do anything about it at all. Miss Bingley never had a chance, but was too confident to realise it. Of course at sixteen, Georgiana had no such finer feelings and she said bluntly, 'If I were Miss Bingley I would have said she looked a fright the next morning, haggard face, dark circles beneath her eyes, blowsy hair and I 'wouldn't even mention her dress, as if she just didn't care'.

  But I'm not her, so I'll just tell you breakfast was not very entertaining, with Bingley off to escort Miss Bennet and her family back to Hertfordshire, Mrs Hurst away to visit a friend, Miss Bingley pushing about her food on her plate and sighing, and myself wishing their piano was in better tune.'

  Elizabeth already felt guilty for Georgiana having been forced to spend another morning with Miss Bingley and this didn't make it any better, until Fitzwilliam saw her expression and gave her a big wink. Georgiana continued with gusto.

  'After breakfast I played her some consoling opera pieces and that did work, for she soon improved enough to want to discuss all our relations' clothes at the wedding, and all the young men she'd danced with. And with her brother engaged she was eager to marry me off, I think that is her next g
oal in life.

  She'd better marry herself off first, she's waited for you so long, Fitzwilliam,

  she is in danger of getting left behind.'

  Now Elizabeth could see that Georgiana was not put out at all but in fact relished to talk that way. Her sister-in-law truly disliked Miss Bingley, but she was a bit like Elizabeth's father, very clever at making the most of an unpleasant situation. It would be hard to leave her behind once again, though it would only be for three weeks, including travel to and from Pemberley, and after that she would have the near-constant companionship of her brother, a pleasure she had never really had before. And she would also be spared the irksome company of Miss Bingley, for Elizabeth would not accept that lady's presence in her house outside the occasional week's visit. It was almost time to leave, and Elizabeth chatted with Georgiana as Fitzwilliam took an immaculately dressed gentleman to his study to hand over his family's diamonds. And Mrs Annesley arrived, Elizabeth had no clue where she had stayed the night, she might have family in London, she was a missus after all. Elizabeth had guessed her to be a widow, but maybe she did have a husband yet living. When Fitzwilliam returned from seeing the gentleman out, they took leave and Elizabeth was handed into the carriage by her doting husband. They waved at Georgiana through the window until they could no longer see her. And their honeymoon had begun.

  Chapter 13

  As they drove away from London towards Derbyshire, usually a three day trip but Fitzwilliam had proposed to take four days to really enjoy their time together, Elizabeth found herself a bit downhearted. She would never go back home except as a guest, and every league they travelled now took her farther away from her father and from Jane. For a moment her throat felt as if it was too narrow, and her eyes stung, but she was not going to break down crying for her old life. She had married a man who loved her for her strength of mind, not for her dependent nature, it might upset his image of her to see her cry. During their engagement she had felt so connected to him, but seeing his town house and meeting his family and connections she had started to realise how much different their worlds were, and how little they actually knew one another. It had been easy to be madly in love with her handsome fiancée while living with her parents, in the house she grew up in, everything around her familiar, her future secured from want and having to live among people with inferior minds. But now she felt totally at the mercy of the man she had married, they were driving in his carriage, from his exquisite London home to his magnificent estate; Elizabeth of course knew the road, she had travelled it with her aunt and uncle after all, and they had checked their progress regularly with the help of a detailed road map. But this time Fitzwilliam had arranged everything, he had consulted her but he had done every practical thing himself, arranged the marriage ceremony, had the invitations sent, decided what dinner was to be served, had chosen the inns where they would stay during the trip. Would she ever be allowed to make a decision of her own?