Merry Mishaps

by Emma East

  “My glorious wife,” he murmured, gazing down at her with hunger. He cupped her with both hands and she arched as his thumbs swept across her aching nipples.

  Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she reached down and pulled the fabric at her hips. The dress, ill-fitting to begin with, took little persuasion to fall to the floor around her feet.

  Bare, vulnerable, her skin gold in the light from the fireplace, she awaited his verdict.

  His pupils dilated. His throat contracted. A shuddering breath escaped him.

  “Can you not even speak?”

  “No,” he said, to her laugh, and bent to take her lips.

  A knock on the door: three rapid knocks, with some urgency.

  They paused. Elizabeth’s eyes shot open to find Darcy’s gaze likewise shocked. Elizabeth pulled away, tempering down her disappointment.

  Darcy dropped his head to her shoulder. “This must be a nightmare,” he groaned.

  She squeezed his side. “Let me past—we shall resume in a minute, I’m sure.”

  She pulled up her dress as best she could, hurrying to the bedroom and pulling the door closed. Darcy straightened himself, disgruntled when he looked back at her, and then yanked open the door.

  “Yes?” he barked.

  She peered though the crack in the door to see a maid standing in the doorway, her hands full of Elizabeth’s dress. “Please, sir, your man is downstairs to see you.”

  “My man? Mr. Hershel, I assume?”

  She bobbed her head. “Yes, sir. I think your carriage is ready! My mistress sent me up with your lady wife’s dress in case you wished to leave straightaway.”

  There was the briefest of hesitations from her husband. “Thank you. Please assist my wife while I go down to meet him.”

  The servant pulled the door when Darcy left, and Elizabeth opened the door to the bedroom. The maid—Lucy—perked up when she saw Elizabeth peer out at her.

  “What a Christmas miracle!” she exclaimed, striding in with the dress. “And you’re already undone. You must be very eager to return home!”

  Elizabeth, holding the sagging dress to her chest for modesty’s sake, smiled uneasily. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”

  Lucy chattered all while helping Elizabeth into her dress. Any dampness had dried out with substantial heat from a fire, and the innkeeper’s wife must have nearly singed it right before sending it up with Lucy. Some places of the dress, especially the backside, made her hiss as it met her skin. Lucy, gaily talking about her plans for Christmas after Elizabeth asked her, didn’t take notice.

  Darcy returned in only a few minutes, standing in the small sitting room to give her the privacy he insisted on. He was a silly creature about being in the same room with her while she was dressing, and she repressed a smile at his long-suffering expression as he stared at the door to the rooms. Only when Lucy finished did Darcy come into the bedroom.

  “I don’t think the girl knows the definition of efficient,” he muttered as he slipped through the doorway and stopped in front of her.

  Smiling, she asked the pertinent question. “Well, have I burned my backside for naught or are we to leave?”

  “Burned your— never mind, I do not wish to know.” Darcy blew out his cheeks and then released a breath. “How do you feel about going back tonight?”

  Elizabeth sighed and reached out, feeling the nervous energy in his arms. Soothing him, she rubbed her hands up and down his forearms. “Only if you want to. It will be very late by the time we get home. Perhaps it would be better—and safer—to remain here.”

  Darcy gave her a look, one that told her he knew exactly how little she agreed with what she said. “We have plenty of fuel. Hershel and Dunburrow are willing to make the drive if we wish, and that was before I promised them a special Christmas bonus for their trouble.”

  Elizabeth softened. Reaching up on tiptoe, she kissed him. “Thank you. You do spoil me dreadfully.”

  Darcy’s heavy-lidded eyes brightened with a smile that barely touched his lips. He squeezed her hips. “It is no hardship on my part. You have given me everything I ever desired. What wouldn’t I do for you?”

  Elizabeth gave the innkeeper’s wife a grateful goodbye before they were walked out to where their coach waited outside the entrance. Lanterns hung from all four corners of the coach, along with two in front. They lit up the blue-black environs, but it was still terribly dark. The drivers would need to be careful each step of the way. But though they faced a grim task, they seemed happy to be on the way and directed confident nods toward her when they saw her watching them make the last preparations. Darcy had set the drivers up with enough alcohol, hot bricks, and blankets to keep them only moderately chilly during the drive, so at least they were not totally without resources.

  Tugging her fur cloak higher to block out the icy fingers of winter, she accepted Darcy’s help inside. Blankets and hot bricks were already prepared for them, along with a jug of hot tea. Elizabeth dove under the blankets first thing, already shivering from just a few minutes in the weather.

  The door closed, trapping out the wind. Darcy settled on the bench beside her with a full-bodied shiver. She quickly helped him throw blankets over his lap.

  “Barring any further difficulties, we should be comfortable for the remainder of the trip.”

  “I’m always comfortable with you,” she said. Grinning at his expression through the dim light cast by a candle, she said. “Call me a sap all you wish, Mr. Darcy, and you will be correct.”

  He pulled her into his side and she snuggled close, rubbing her cheek against the chilly fabric of his wool coat. Together, under several layers of blankets and with their feet atop the bricks, they managed to chase away the chill.

  “I will need to make something special for Mr. Hershel and Mr. Dunburrow for Christmas. They have gone above and beyond for us.”

  “They certainly deserve it,” he agreed. Though Darcy was a generous master and never sought to find fault with the service his staff provided, he always took pleasure in rewarding outstanding action. And his staff rewarded him by always attempting the impossible for him.

  Just as he took pleasure in celebrating the outstanding, he took more pleasure in celebrating the special moments in their lives. There were several times since they’d married when he asked Elizabeth and Georgiana to knit something to commemorate the birth of a grandchild or a child being accepted as an apprentice.

  Elizabeth, who grew up with approximately five servants, appreciated the effort it took to remember these occasions when he supported hundreds of livelihoods. At first daunted, she now attempted to be just as good as her husband at remembering names and the names of children and grandchildren. It was the personal touches that made a person’s face brighten.

  “My love?”

  “Mm?”

  “Have you ever known a couple happier than us on their first year wed?”

  “I would doubt the claim if it were made,” Darcy said, smoothing down her hair. “Did your mother say something to the contrary? Shall we turn around to set her straight?”

  Smiling, she snuggled closer to his chest. “No, my mother daren’t impugn the happiness of the Darcy family. It was just idle thought as I think over what we have been through this year together.”

  “If we can continue as we have this year, then I will be content the rest of my days. Life by your side has been joyful, my dear Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth blinked several times, now knowing herself for the complete sap she was. She straightened so she might gaze into her husband’s eyes. It was useless though, dark as the cabin was. “It has been extraordinary. Despite everything that attempted to keep us apart, our Creator ensured we came together in the end, and how lucky we are to be here now.”

  Under the blankets, he took her hand and squeezed. “It is not often you grow sentimental. Are you sure your mother didn’t say anything?”

  “Oh, Darcy,” she laughed. “It spells trouble for my character if you in
sist that I only say good things about us when I am urged to in response to my mother’s foolishness!”

  “She did say something then.”

  “No… I mean, well, yes. Something small she said in passing. It gave me no bother then and it doesn’t bother me now, either.” Elizabeth waved it away like a horse shooing away a fly.” Then she paused. “Well… she said, she said something about how happy Jane and Charles were, how she had never seen two people glow half as much as they did as when they visited while we were there. And I’m afraid it has lingered in my mind, this lack of mysterious glow.”

  Darcy chuckled. Elizabeth stared at his shadowed face in surprise. Then she grimaced. “You are laughing because your wife is just as silly as her mother.”

  “No,” he said with a final chuckle, a smile in his voice. “I am laughing because the glow does not come from marital felicity—not entirely.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mother may have mistakenly believed that the recent happiness of her eldest is entirely in response to marriage to Bingley, however, I have confidential information suggesting it may be in response to news your mother does not have.”

  She could grab him by the lapels and shake him. “What do you mean, Darcy? What has Charles told you?”

  “My dear, I had hoped to give you this news on Christmas to further enhance your joy, but if you are truly perturbed as you compare our happiness, then I shan’t ruin your fun.”

  Her mouth dropped. A noise came out that sounded suspiciously strangled.

  Darcy laughed.

  “I tease you, my dear. Though I did intend to tell you at Christmas, the news is too perfect not to share.”

  “Darcy!” she exclaimed, poking him in the stomach and hearing him grunt in surprise. “What is it? Tell me at once!”

  Darcy tugged her back into his chest, squashing her hand between his and his chest so she could no longer poke him. The smile still in his voice, he said, “My dear, the finishing touches on the Bingley’s estate in Derbyshire are complete. By the spring, if the weather permits, Jane and Bingley shall be our newest neighbors.”

  “Oh— Oh my—“ She gasped. “How sneaky they are! They did not let on to anyone! I even spoke to Jane about it… and now I know why she seemed not to wish to discuss it. I thought her disappointed it was taking so long — when in reality, she sought not to give herself away!”

  Her mind buzzed with memories, furiously contemplating how her sister had changed so much that she could play a prank on Elizabeth so. A grin stretched her face. “What sisterly loyalty she has! I shall write to her at once to tell her my feelings about this trick!”

  “You may tell her you blame me entirely, for it was I who put it to them,” Darcy said with a chuckle.

  “You?” Elizabeth gasped. “I am shocked and appalled, husband. Shocked and appalled.”

  “As I am with you, my dear wife. Believing such a thing of your sister.” He tsked. “Your sister was not entirely convinced it was a good idea to surprise you so, but I persuaded them. Now you will need to apologize for thinking her the mastermind!”

  Elizabeth laughed and nudged her husband’s shoulder with her own. “I will tell her my husband led me astray. Poor Jane! I can imagine her quite distraught over the subterfuge.”

  Darcy leaned back and brushed his hand over her cheek. “But are you surprised, my dear?”

  Elizabeth softened against him, smiling ear to ear though she doubted he could see her. “Very much so. I am pleased more than anything they will be our neighbors and we might see them more frequently than twice a year. My life could not be more perfect.”

  “Mm.” His hand curled around her shoulder and pulled her in. His kisses were sweet like his tea and his sensual lips covered hers with delicacy and thoroughness. His skill in kissing her only improved with every kiss they shared, and she counted him as having mastered the art of leaving her breathless, which he did so now.

  Her hand slipping underneath his jacket, she pressed against him, touching him however she could through his many fabrics. To make him feel as good as she did seemed impossible, but she longed to try. Her hand glided lower, down his waistcoat, to brush against his deerskin breeches.

  He jumped at the gentle touch, and then moaned, deepening their kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth, persuasively fanning the flames of desire within her. Below, she cupped him, easing him to full hardness through the soft fabric.

  “Lizzy,” he murmured, nipping her bottom lip.

  “Mm?”

  With a groan, he pulled away from her. His hand wrapped around her wrist and forced her to quit pleasing him. She could hear his gasps in the tiny cabin, and his irritation.

  “I am not a superstitious person, but too many incidents have occurred while we attempted…”

  “Intimacies?” she finished with a smile.

  He cleared his throat. “Exactly. We have been interrupted too many times today for me to believe anything other than calamity will strike if we continue.”

  “Darcy,” she laughed. “We have grown intimate in this coach on numerous occasions. And now you believe we are… haunted?”

  “Cursed,” Darcy corrected.

  Chuckling, she leaned forward to kiss him again. “My father would have liked to curse us before our wedding,” she said with a smile at the memory. “Do you remember?”

  “If he had come upon us a few minutes sooner, I likely would not be alive to remember.”

  She laughed. “Parents must expect their children to explore intimacies before their wedding day. We just like to… exceed expectations. There was no harm done, at any rate.”

  “Your father likely hasn’t forgiven me. Did you see the stare he gave me when they greeted us at Longbourn?”

  She hadn’t, actually. She had been too busy fending off her younger sisters and their requests for pin money and new ribbons. But the thought of her whimsical, good-tempered father glaring at Darcy made her smile. However, her husband would not appreciate the sentiment. She pitched her tone to one of concern. “Was it very harsh?”

  “If I were a weaker man, I would have torn out of there at once.”

  “Mm, then I must be glad you are not. It was only a little kissing. He will recover in due course.”

  “I look forward to that day in ten years’ time.” Darcy leaned forward, nuzzling against her neck. “Though the memory of that day was not spoiled by him. You were fetching in your linen dress, my wife.”

  She tilted her head, allowing him more access. He’d found that spot, that dreadful spot under her ear, the one which caused no small amount of hot pinpricks to rush down her spine. Breathily, she said, “I think I remember the one.”

  “I certainly do,” he murmured. “How sheer it looked when I saw you from afar! I don’t know how I contained myself—nor how I managed the fortitude to resist kissing you as long as I did.”

  His tongue tasted her skin, followed by a teasing nip. His hand came up and she arched as he palmed her breast. Through the thick layers of clothing, however, she could barely feel him and it was more frustration than relief. To be out of this dreadful cold weather and out of these irritating clothes! She didn’t think feeling her husband’s touch was too much to ask, but the weather seemed to feel otherwise.

  Darcy appeared to realize her frustration and, tugging on her elbow, pulled her back into his lap. His hand made its determined way up her stocking-clad legs.

  “What about the calamities?” she said. “Are you not worried we are cursed?”

  He growled as his hand met her bare thighs. Lifting his hips, showing her the depth of his need for her, his hand slipped between the junction of her thighs. “I am worried that I will be cursed if I do not have you right this minute.”

  His cool fingers met her warm core and she gasped. She had been waiting eagerly for such a touch, for a happy reunion of their bodies, to the point the simple touch overwhelmed her senses. But she tried to fight for sanity. “Well, I-I will not be blamed if
we end up in a ditch.”

  “Only a taste, my dear,” he said, almost as if he were convincing himself. His breath came out as a groan as she shifted atop him, rubbing against his straining manhood. Her hips rose without her volition, her conscious thought only focused on his touch within her, his come hither teasing strokes.

  “Oh, Darcy.”

  “Yes, my Lizzy?”

  “I want— I need—”

  His hot breath caressed her ear. She clung helplessly to the lapels of his jacket, body striving for more, desiring the proof of his lust now thrusting against her backside. She needed completeness that had been lacking all day. She needed a union of body and mind. “I need you.”

  His satisfied groan reverberated through her chest. “And I will always give you what you—”

  “FIRE! FIRE AT PEMBERLEY!”

  Elizabeth scrambled off Darcy’s lap. Both of them rushing to peer out the window. A fire at Pemberley? They were that close? Or was it a rider from their estate crying out the news?

  “What the bloody devil—”

  Elizabeth peered over Darcy’s shoulder. Their carriage was at the perfect bend in the long, winding drive to see the display. They were indeed close to Pemberley. Close enough to see the orange blaze lighting up the midnight dark sky. Her breath escaped her in a whoosh.

  “My God, it is a fire! The stables!”

  One of the drivers slapped the roof. “Mr. Darcy, best hold on!”

  The horses whickered at the loud snap of the whip overhead. Elizabeth clutched the bench seat as the carriage rocked under them, faster than they had traveled all day. Darcy removed his jacket and then, face anxious and pale, stayed at the window, his hands gripping the door handle. He wouldn’t waste a moment when it was time to jump out. What she’d once thought was excessive pride of his home was actually driven by his intense love. The wait would be maddening for him.