Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice Sequel Bundle: 3 Reader Favorites

by Linda Berdoll

Lizzy smiled inwardly. To him, who grew up surrounded by innumerable servants, the question would seem ludicrous.

  The ballroom near the formal dining room was so mammoth that it dwarfed the latter chamber. Lizzy speculated that all of Longbourn could fit into this one room, and she would not have been far off. Details of the elegant room were ignored for now, however, as her eyes were drawn to the array of people in front of her. They were separated, accidentally or on purpose she did not know, into small clusters, rigidly at attention and wearing pristine uniforms. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Taylor, the butler, stood formally in front. In unison, everyone in the room bowed or curtseyed. The perfection of it stunned Lizzy.

  Mrs. Reynolds stepped forward. “The staff awaits your inspection, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

  Lizzy felt the urge to laugh. It was all so stiff and slightly ridiculous to her. One glance at her husband’s visage, though, and she reconsidered. This was his world. Here he was the Master. In the weeks of their engagement, she had seen only her “William.” He talked about his home and his duties frequently, to the point where she understood much of what life at Pemberley must be like. During that time, the stern, commanding presence of “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley” had faded, and she had forgotten that side of him. In all honesty, she had never actually seen that side of him.

  She saw it now and experienced a surge of pride. What she had originally deemed haughty arrogance was in reality nobility, authority, power, and superior confidence. Here was a man utterly assured of his place in life and his responsibilities. He gave orders and expected them to be carried out without question.

  With sudden insight she put all the pieces together. How a man of enormous capabilities, absolute command, and control over such vast properties and lives could be laid low by consuming love for a woman he thought he could not have. How this vulnerability and helplessness would engulf and stagger him. Perhaps to a degree he had needed to be humbled, yet all Lizzy could feel now was fresh pain and thankfulness that he would suffer no more.

  She decided immediately that there was no possible way she would remember all their names, so she did not try. There was the kitchen staff, commanded by the iron fist of Mrs. Langton. The footmen, under the authority of Mr. Taylor. The household staff consisted of a dozen maids and numerous helpers and answered to Mrs. Reynolds. The outside staff, gardeners and maintenance men, led by the head groundskeeper, a Mr. Clark. Marguerite, Samuel, and Mr. Keith stood off to the side as they were under the direct and only command of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Darcy explained to Elizabeth that the grooms and stable boys would be introduced later at the stables. She maintained her composure, but was inwardly overawed and suddenly understood how her husband could not possibly know the precise number of staff.

  Afterwards they retired to the smaller dining room, the “breakfast room” as Darcy called it. Lizzy was feeling more than a little overwhelmed, so she was thankful for the reprieve. As soon as they were served, the servants exited and shut the doors firmly behind them. They had done the same at dinner last night and it mystified her.

  “Do the servants always leave?” she inquired. “At Longbourn they remain in case we need something.”

  Darcy reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for an intoxicating kiss to each of her knuckles before tenderly sucking the tip of each finger. “If they remained, I would not be able to do this,” he declared with a mischievous grin and a smoldering gaze. Lizzy was instantly breathless and weak. How was it that his eyes on her and one touch of his lips could arouse her so?

  Before she lost all restraint, not that she was necessarily averse to the idea, she flippantly retorted, “Am I to understand that the Master’s commands include keeping me sequestered behind closed doors to be at his disposal?”

  He continued to ravage her hand, now having progressed to the sensitive flesh of her palm and inner wrist. “I warned you, Madame, did I not? I desire unfettered access. You should be grateful I permitted you out of our chambers at all today.” His exploring mouth was sending shivers of excitement coursing through her body.

  “Does the Master’s absolute control extend to me?” she stammered, finding it extremely difficult to speak.

  “Your vows included the promise to obey, my love.” He wormed one finger under her sleeve, pushing it up to her elbow with his lips following. “Do my requirements perturb you, beloved? I would never wish to force unpleasantness upon you,” he said with a playful nibble to her inner elbow.

  “William!” she pleaded, her voice a husky whisper.

  He smiled with satisfaction. “Are you begging me to stop, dearest wife, or to carry on?”

  “I…” The truth was she wanted desperately for him to have his way with her right then, but she could not bring herself to say it. She felt his smile on her skin, and then with one last kiss, he released her arm, gently returning the hand to her lap. Their eyes met, his full of passion and a hint of amusement, hers glazed with forlorn yearning.

  “Eat your food, Elizabeth. You will need your strength as I intend to carry you to our bed the second we are finished.” And he did exactly that.

  THAT EVENING, AS ELIZABETH prepared for dinner, she could not stop smiling. Her happiness was boundless.

  Marguerite fussed with her hair, creating a masterpiece arrangement Lizzy would not have thought possible. The only disruption to her joy came when she contemplated her limited wardrobe. Her father had scraped together as much money as he possibly could for her and Jane; however, most of it had gone toward their wedding gowns and trousseau. She and Jane had managed to purchase cloth for two dresses each, which they sewed themselves. At the time Lizzy, in her innocence, had deemed this more than adequate. She had never been the type of woman to trouble herself with fashion or style. Her gowns were functional and comfortable. She owned only two fancy gowns, her wedding dress and her white ball gown; however, even they now appeared dowdy and plain amidst the splendor of Pemberley.

  The question was how to broach the subject with Darcy. She persisted in harboring feelings of embarrassment regarding the topic of his wealth. Should she blatantly solicit money for gowns? She shuddered at the thought.

  She decided to wear her burgundy gown. She reached for the pearls, but Marguerite interrupted politely suggesting that the rubies would be a preferred accessory.

  “Marguerite, I do not own rubies.”

  “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Darcy, but you do. I was instructed to relinquish this into your keeping,” and she pulled a small key from her pocket, “It opens the closet with the Darcy jewels. I regret that there has not been the appropriate time. Please forgive me.”

  “Of course,” Lizzy murmured, amazed anew. “Which cabinet is it?”

  The cabinet was floor to ceiling and about one foot wide. Inside, lying on cushions of velvet was a staggering assortment of jewelry. Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings, hair clips, brooches, and more in every gem she had ever heard of and some she did not recognize. Many of the pieces were quite old and of a style that Elizabeth could never imagine herself wearing, yet they were all exquisite. Her hands trembled as she touched the spectacular ruby necklace that Marguerite indicated. “Could you please assist me, Marguerite? I do not think I can manage.”

  She stood before the mirror for one last inspection and was started by a deep, sonorous voice. “You are exceptionally captivating tonight, Mrs. Darcy.”

  She whirled around to see her husband leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes lazily exploring her body while an inviting smile danced on his lips. He was wearing a blue coat, naturally, with matching blue breeches and a waistcoat of green with gold stripes. She decided to match his bold inventory of her appearance by doing the same. To her pleasure she noted the increased flame in his eyes. She smiled wickedly. “You surprised me, Mr. Darcy.”

  “You assured me I was welcome in your dressing room anytime and that I am not required to knock. Is the offer valid, Madame?”
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  “Yes, it is, although you might take caution not to sneak so. You are liable to frighten poor Marguerite into a heart seizure,” she said with a laugh and a wink to her maid, who had placidly busied herself straightening the vanity.

  Marguerite calmly turned toward her mistress, her face a study in serene indifference, intoning unemotionally, “I warrant my heart is able to withstand the shock, Madame. Will you be requiring my services further, Mrs. Darcy?”

  “No, Marguerite, thank you.”

  “Very well. Sir… Madame,” and with perfect curtseys, she left.

  Lizzy peered at her husband, who remained insolently lounging in the doorway, “You scared her,” she teased, and turned back to the mirror.

  “It appears to be a failing of mine,” he remarked dryly. He came behind her and stroked the curve of her hips before clasping his hands about her waist and pulling her against him, nibbling along her neck at the same time.

  “You are so beautiful, Elizabeth. I love you immensely.” She could feel his heat; desire and craving evident in how he embraced her.

  She melted against his body. “Have you not yet gotten enough of me, Mr. Darcy?” she sassed. “Have I not satisfied you sufficiently?”

  “You have satisfied me, my heart, lavishly and in ways previously undreamed of. But, enough? No, there is no risk of me ever reaching a state of over-saturation. Your love, your existence in my life, is as crucial as food and air.” He ceaselessly kissed and caressed as he spoke. “I see you found the jewelry cabinet. The rubies are lovely on you, or rather your beauty augments their loveliness.”

  “Perhaps it is merely an odd coincidence; however, it seems that you are forever attempting to delay our meals with your amorous attentions.”

  “The fault is entirely yours, my wife, for being such a temptress. I am only a man and cannot be expected to control myself when confronted with such succulent delights before me.”

  “Why, sir, I was under the mistaken impression you were a gentleman!”

  He laughed and turned her around, taking her face into his hands, “I see I have accomplished my goal of deceiving you. Would a gentleman do this?” he asked, and claimed her mouth in a kiss of incredible depth and implication. When he at last pulled away it was to see his wife’s face suffused with passion, eyes half open and breath shallow. He gazed upon her, mightily thrilled at his ability to inflame her.

  Eventually she calmed enough to meet his eyes. “No, my husband, I do not believe you are a gentleman, and I cannot express how happy that makes me!”

  Darcy smiled and kissed the tip of her pert nose. “Come, Mrs. Darcy, let us not delay our meal any longer. I can survive in the knowledge that I may not be a perfect gentleman, but perish the thought that I am a brute who starves his wife!” He offered her his arm and led her out the door.

  They passed the door to his dressing room and Lizzy started giggling. “What have I done now to amuse you, my love?”

  Still laughing, Lizzy replied, “I had a sudden vision of barging into your dressing room, which is only fair I might add, and catching you in a state of undress. How would your valet respond to that?”

  Darcy smiled, “Samuel is exceedingly prim and proper, and unmarried. I believe I have upset him enough these past two days by not adhering to my strict schedule and usual decorum. He probably would suffer a heart seizure!” He glanced at his grinning wife. “Are you giving me fair warning, my love? If so I should prepare Samuel for the eventual improprieties of my wife. He is an excellent valet and I would hate to lose him.”

  Lizzy lifted her chin impudently. “Prepare him as you see fit, Mr. Darcy, but do not expect any fair warnings from me. Sneaking and surprising are the rules of this game.”

  Dinner, naturally, was delicious. The servants left the room, returning with the next courses only when Darcy rang for them, but he kept his seat and did not torture his poor wife. They were both quite happy so the atmosphere was lively.

  “Dare I inquire, dear husband, what the itinerary is for the rest of the evening? Or had you planned a recap of our after-lunch activity?” she asked with a playful flutter of her lashes.

  Darcy lifted one eyebrow. “Said activity is never far from my mind, dearest; however, I am willing to ponder alternative pursuits, provided you are involved.”

  “William, I would like to take a walk. We have been cooped up all day, marvelous as it has been.” She gazed at him warmly and caressed his knee. “Nevertheless, I am feeling the need for some fresh air.”

  He rose and bowed gallantly, saying, “I am yours to command, beloved. A walk it shall be.”

  They exited the dining room and discovered the butler standing at attention. He bowed. “Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy. Sir, I have an envelope that Mr. Keith gave me to convey to you when you finished dining.” He handed Darcy a large envelope, which Darcy glanced at quickly, seeming instantly to glean the contents.

  “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. Would you please place this on my desk for now? Could you then please ensure the terrace lamps are lit and retrieve our gloves, my coat, and Mrs. Darcy’s pelisse? We will be in the gallery.”

  “At once, sir,” and with another bow to each, he left.

  Darcy took her hand and led her to the gallery. Lizzy had not been in this room since her visit in September and had almost forgotten how astounding the works of art were. There was so much beauty in this one room that she imagined one could never fully absorb it all. Darcy strolled alongside her, offering insights into and the history of several of the pieces. He told her that his grandfather had first begun collecting the marble statues after he and Darcy’s grandmother had taken a trip to Italy. His father had acquired a few pieces, but it was Darcy who was especially stirred by sculpture. He had added more than half the pieces. He was so enamored with the art form that he had insisted on a bust of Georgiana. She had agreed but finagled him to also have a bust made of himself, hence the image before which Lizzy now stood.

  Lizzy was as enraptured by the image now as she had been three months ago. It fascinated her how cold stone could appear so alive. How was it possible to capture his beauty, strength, and gentleness in a rock? Darcy had been distracted by a footman bringing their coats, so he was surprised to see his wife staring so intently at his likeness.

  Lizzy was mesmerized. She sensed his presence near her and said dreamily, “Your face was the cause of my separation from Mrs. Reynolds and my aunt and uncle. I could not look away. I know now that I was already falling in love with you, but I had not admitted it to myself. Being here at Pemberley, surrounded by the beauty of your home, focused my tumultuous emotions. However, it was as I beheld this,” she reached up and brushed the shimmering cheeks and lips of the bust, “your face so gentle and loving even in stone, taunting me it seemed with a fond gaze, that I desperately wished to be favored with… I knew then that I hopelessly loved you.”

  She turned to him, his flesh-and-blood face so close to her own, with those impossible blue eyes piercing her soul and his countenance resplendent with emotion. He cupped her face in his hands, caressing soft thumbs over her cheeks. He opened his mouth as if to speak but words failed. He swallowed, tears threatening to spill. Lizzy linked her hands behind his neck, drawing him to her. “I love you, my darling, with all my soul,” she whispered. They kissed then, a slow, tender kiss not of passion but of deep faithfulness and belonging. He enfolded her in his arms, embracing securely.

  Eventually Darcy spoke, “Shall we stroll in the moonlight, my heart? It is cold out tonight so I shall have ready excuses to hold you and kiss you to keep you warm.”

  She laughed. “As if you need valid excuses.”

  It was a cold night but clear with the moon at three-quarters and bright. Billions of stars were visible. They walked leisurely, hand in hand, along the wide terrace that ran the length of the southern side of the manor. Several stone benches and secluded alcoves with arbors of trailing vines were spaced along the railing. Darcy unerringly led her to the eastern edge of the terrace
and down the steps to the moonlit lawn beyond. He crossed the grass to a looming wall of brick and climbing vines that sheltered an array of pathways weaving through a secluded garden.

  “This garden,” he informed her as they strolled, “is considerably smaller than the ones located to the southeast. It is a private garden for the family only. I come here most nights to breathe the fresh air and gaze at the sky before retiring. Mr. Clark knows it is a habit of mine, so he typically will wheel the protected flowers out from the conservatory until after I complete my stroll. You will find, my love, that he is an incredible gardener who has trained his staff well. No seasons pass without at least a few blooms and greenery.”

  He chose a trail lined by a row of rosebushes, currently without blooms, of course. The gravel passageway twisted and turned until finally terminating at a clearing with a large gurgling fountain of four sea nymphs pouring water from pitchers. The fountain and pebbled expanse were completely shaded by an enormous, ancient oak tree and bordered with a profusion of vines and shrubs. Most were dormant, but the fragrance and color of the protected winter blooms of jasmine, camellia, hyacinth, paper-white narcissus, and hellebore filled the air. The only illumination was the moon and starlight shimmering and reflecting off the water.

  Darcy sat on the edge of the fountain and pulled Elizabeth onto his lap. He wrapped his large overcoat about her and she nestled into his chest. “I love gazing at the stars,” Darcy remarked softly. “The immensity of the universe with the vastness of space and uncountable heavenly bodies is so outside our control and power. What is man compared to such awesome magnificence? It is a humbling experience to note one’s insignificance.”

  “‘Miserable mortals who, like leaves, at one moment flame with life and at another moment weakly perish,’” Lizzy quoted.*

  Darcy smiled, “‘There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.’”**