“There is only one room I want to give you a tour of presently, Mrs. Darcy,” Darcy said as he stopped, and kissed her hard but quickly in the hall.
Elizabeth laughed, “So you are taking me to the library?”
He rounded the corner toward the family apartments as he said, “I am most certainly not taking you to the library, love. I have fantasized about having my new bride in my bedchamber for way too long. I find that it is imperative that the tour of your new home begin in the Master’s chambers.”
Darcy stopped in front of his door, opened it with one hand, entered his chambers and put her on the floor, quickly locked the door, pressed her up against the wall, and kissed her hungrily.
Elizabeth was just as stimulated. She grabbed eagerly at his bottom as he pressed into her womanhood. The neckline of her gown was quite low today and he easily lowered one side of her gown to reach her breast. With his other hand, he began slowly gathering up her skirts. They were both too aroused to disrobe.
Her hands moved around to unbutton his breeches. She reached in and pulled his manhood into her eager hands, stroking his length until he stopped her with his hand. “Oh God, Lizzy, please stop! I must be inside of you now.” He moved up her skirts and hooked one of her legs over his arm.
The look of hunger in his eyes was more intense than she had ever seen it before. He paused just long enough to lock with her eyes and then move to her mouth, which was slightly open in anticipation of his passion. Darcy pressed forward. His tongue and his manhood entered her at the same instant, the deep thrusting of his tongue wrestling in an intense struggle with her own. Elizabeth pressed against him, as he plunged into her depths.
She felt like he was impaling her into the wall. His mouth began to whisper sensual, intensely sexual words into her ear. “Oh, God Lizzy, you are so warm and so wet. To feel myself buried in your depths, I may never again return to the surface.” He moved his hands down to her bottom and pulled her toward him. “Oh, how I have longed to escape into you. Do you like to feel me deep within you? What do you want, Elizabeth?”
“Oh God, William, do not stop, please do not stop!”
“Tell me. Tell me what you want,” he trailed the back of his fingers down her chest, slightly teasing her ripe nipple with his fingertips. And he pressed once into her and back out, stopping again.
“Please, Will, Please I need you. I need you in me now!”
“Does wanting me make you feel wanton, Mrs. Darcy?” and he plunged forward forcefully and withdrew slowly, stopping yet again.
“If you want… if you want me to be wanton, I am wanton, Will. Please just fill me again. Please, please,” and she pressed herself against him, but he resisted.
“No, no, you have not sufficiently shown me that you truly want me,” he said as he again drove deep into her, stopping inside her this time.
“Do you like that, Lizzy? Do you like feeling me deep inside you? Do you want me hard and fast, wife? Beg me, beg me to take you!” Darcy commanded.
“Oh God, Will, take me. Plunge into me, deep within me,” tears were escaping from the corners of her eyes as she begged him to fulfill her.
Darcy began to move swifter and harder, as he lifted her up all the way off the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist and pressed her flush against the wall and his manhood pressed again and again into her lush recesses as he kissed her intensely. Their bodies moving in time with each other, he kept his rhythm as they reached their pleasure together.
Darcy collapsed against her just a moment. Somehow they gathered themselves together enough to finish disrobing and he carried her to his bed and pulled her under the covers with him. He was stunned. He had never imagined doing anything that wild with his bride, his Lizzy. He was not sure what to think of himself, much less what Elizabeth might have thought of him, to have taken her in such a way. His thoughts were a jumble, but he reflected for a moment on what she might be feeling and knew that he simply must say something to her. He pulled her head up to look him in the eyes, his eyes questioning her. She blushed and hid her head.
“Oh Lizzy, I am sorry, my love. I had no idea I could become such a beast. Please say something to me,” he quietly begged her.
Elizabeth did not look at him, but she whispered into his chest. “Oh, William, are you ashamed of me? To think I have acted the part of such a wanton wench. I… I… simply had no idea I could ever say such things. I have acted no better than a common harlot.”
“Oh God, Elizabeth, I am so sorry that I have done something to make you doubt yourself. You are all I could ever want in a wife, in a mistress, and a lover. You are everything I could ever want and more. You have nothing, nothing to be ashamed of. It is I who pushed you to act in such a way. I behaved like a common rake. I should have known better. Are you all right? Please, please tell me,” he tried again to get her to look at him.
She whispered into his chest again, “I am more than all right, that is the problem, I fear.” She tentatively lifted up her head to look at him. “You are not ashamed of me, William? You are not upset with your wench of a wife,” the corners of her mouth just slightly curled upwards, as she was hopeful that he had been pleased and not ashamed.
“If you are a wench then I am a rake. We are quite a pair, Mrs. Darcy,” he said as he smiled. “You are not upset with me for taking you in such a way, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth spoke quietly but sincerely, “I would not always want it to be so, William, but I have to admit that I found it quite thrilling. Is this something that you learned from the courtesan, William?”
“Good God, no, Lizzy. You are the only one that inspires such fantasizes in me, my love,” Darcy said as he rubbed her lips, realizing that they were red and swollen from his fierce kisses.
“You have had fantasies of me?”
Darcy chuckled, “We just fulfilled one of them, I believe. But it was never that intense in my fantasy. You are so much more than my most fanciful whimsy!”
“Will you tell me more of your fantasies, William?” she asked with some curiosity.
“No, my curious cat, but I promise to show you them from time to time. Will that be all right with you? I would not want to dishonour you in any way. But there are some fantasies I would hope to have come true with time.”
“Can you tell me any in particular, William?”
“I will only tell you that if I ever call you Miss Bennet, you will know that I intend to fulfill one. Would that be agreeable to you?”
“You had fantasies of me before we were married?” Elizabeth innocently questioned.
“Lizzy, I believe I began having fantasies of you even before you came to Netherfield to stay with your sister. But from that first night on, you visited me in daydreams, taking me into flights of imagination I had never experienced before.”
Elizabeth reached up and kissed him lightly. “And this, today, was a fantasy you had of us?” She raised her eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, smiling at him.
“Oh, yes, indeed, along with this,” Darcy said. He rolled her over underneath him, as he proceeded to fulfill yet another fantasy, welcoming her to his bed.
*~*~*~*~*
Tom Bennet sat in his library, absently flipping through the latest paper. He had gotten a short message from his son-in-law when Darcy and Elizabeth left Stoke to return to Pemberley, and was thinking that they were due to arrive at Pemberley that very day.
Tom had some very nice memories of Pemberley, but his last memory was not a pleasant one. He had eavesdropped on a conversation between Anne Darcy and her sister Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The conversation had pierced and broken his heart. He thought back to that day, long ago.
*~*~*~*~*
1790
Tom Bennet was in the library at Pemberley several days prior to Easter. He was looking at some of the rare books, in the back corner when he heard two female voices enter.
“Anne, you simply must do something about George’s insistence in maintaining a friendship with that man an
d his chit of a wife”, Catherine said.
“Catty, you know I do not have a say in George’s affairs. He keeps them to himself. I have no say in whom he has as a friend and whom he does not. We have known Tom Bennet for many, many years. I met him myself when he spent the summer holidays at Matlock. I can say nothing to George. You know that,” Anne responded.
Catherine said, “Anne, you must see, surely you must see that their connections are so far below you. They can do nothing but harm you. For Tom Bennet to continue to openly serve as godfather to Fitzwilliam is bound to lower the opinion of the ton. To have a man of no connections and little wealth connected to this family is unsupportable. I will not have it.”
Anne spoke, “Catty, this is not up to you. Honestly, it is not up to me either. George chose Tom as Fitzwilliam’s godfather. I cannot go against his wishes. He has been a most devoted godfather, as well. In fact, he has been more a part of his godson’s life than even Edward has been.”
“That is precisely my point, Anne. He may have been a better choice until he chose that woman born into trade. Why she is the silliest chit I have ever known! Surely you see how Mr. Bennet’s connection to that woman has made it imperative for you to cut your connection with him and his kind. It will do you all irreparable harm. Do you not see that? George is a fool not to see it himself,” Catherine said.
Anne responded, “Well, I will say Tom’s choice of wife has definitely lowered him in my esteem. I cannot see what would have caused him to choose that woman! In that you are right. There must have been something about her arts and allurements that captured him. I always thought him to have better taste. You know, at one time I thought he was going to ask if he could court me? Instead to settle on that… that… ridiculous woman, well I do not understand it.”
From back in the corner, hidden from view, Tom felt like Anne had stabbed him with a knife. Pain began deep in his soul.
“Well, you see what I am saying then. Maybe if you, Anne, told Tom he is harming Fitzwilliam by associating with your family, he would chose to cut off the association himself. You say that he once saw something in you, but I imagine even then he realized he was so below you, that he could never reach beyond his realm to consider a match with someone from such noble connections as you, dear sister!” Catherine exclaimed.
“Well, I know George will never choose to let go of his best friend, so better that I not even contemplate such a thing. Do you really think the Darcys associating with the Bennets will harm Fitzwilliam, Catty? Do you really think that?” Anne asked with concern.
“It will, and it most likely already has. He is a gentleman. That is for sure, but what of the wife? She has no ability to censure her thoughts and behaviour. Her manners are absolutely shocking. Pemberley should not be associated with such a woman,” Catherine said with force.
Anne thought and said, “Yes, Catty, I have to agree with you. Tom was a fool to marry her. I will never understand it. But I do not know what can be done. I cannot ask him to leave us be. But I cannot allow him to harm my family with his low connections.”
In the back corner of the room, Tom Bennet’s began to cry heart-wrenching, silent tears. Anne, his Anne wanted him gone, was ashamed of him. She wanted to find a way to rid him from her life, saw him as a fool. He wanted to die.
*~*~*~*~*
Tom Bennet sat at his desk and cried. He cried bitter tears, sobs of a life lost, of a day gone by. He remembered the pain with which he made the decision to leave Pemberley forever. To let his best friend, his only love, and his godson live in peace; away from the influence of himself and his wife.
Oh, God, what pain he had endured all these years! To love them enough to let them go! To know in the depths of his soul that the only woman he had ever loved had wanted him away! She had wanted to rid him from her life; was ashamed of him all because of his choice of a wife. He made the decision for the Darcys. But he also made the decision for himself because it was too painful, too raw, too soul-wrenching to ever have sight of Anne Darcy again.
He had written to George, and told him it was better for Fitzwilliam that he had to cut off contact. In all honesty, it had also been for himself.
Something began to dawn on Tom Bennet. It began to come into the light of day, surfacing from within the pain. He had blamed Fanny all these years for losing his best friend, godson, and true love. He had never forgiven her. It had driven a wedge between them that had never lifted. He knew he was wrong to place the blame on Fanny. He was now able to see Anne Darcy for what she was, and how she chose to judge him.
When they came to Pemberley that Easter season, he had light and hope. He had his young Jane, and his wife had found out she was pregnant with his Lizzy while at Pemberley that season.
But a piece of Tom Bennet’s soul had died that day. He sobbed heart-wrenching, regretful tears. Tears that had never come again since that day. He cried for George, for the best friend that he had walked away from. He cried for Anne, an unrequited love, a love never returned, a love of a long-departed soul. He cried for himself, for the man that had died at Pemberley, and the friend he had left behind so long ago. He cried for the lost years with his godson.
Yet, it was thoughts of Fitzwilliam that began to lift him out of the depths of his sorrow. He thought of the years of happiness lost with his wife. He had foolishly closed himself off to her because she was not Anne. It was time to set things right. Fanny had already changed in the short time since he had let her know they had no financial problems.
Why had he ever kept that information from her? It was time to make a new start. Perhaps, returning to Pemberley for the holidays would allow him the opportunity to face the demons of the past. It was time to let go.
Chapter 22
It had been several days since the Darcys arrived at Pemberley, and Elizabeth was attempting to learn her new duties as Mistress. She sat in her newly refurbished study. William had commissioned Lady Anne’s former study to be done in Elizabeth’s favourite colours. She knew she could redo it in anyway she wished, but she loved it just the way William had planned it for her.
Mrs. Reynolds had given her the grand tour of the house. She loved the library, and had particularly enjoyed viewing the galleries. The music room, she could tell, would be a favourite. But she was actually embarrassed when Mrs. Reynolds had asked her how she had liked her new chambers. She had spent very little time in them, only passing through only on her way to her dressing chamber, either before she retired each night or as she dressed each morning.
William had told her he had work to do today. He needed to catch up on matters of business that had been neglected during their courtship and honeymoon. But in truth, Elizabeth knew they would not have gotten very far in their tour had he been her guide. They would have been distracted in one room or another. She smiled at their increasing intimacy.
She and Mrs. Reynolds had talked about menus for the large family gathering due to arrive in a few days for Christmas. Elizabeth utilized her expertise, having previously noted what each member of Darcy’s family preferred. They discussed a plan for which chambers would hold which guests, as well as decorations. It was decided that the staff would decorate the majority of the rooms with greenery. They would find a Christmas tree, as Elizabeth had read about the new tradition many were using for holiday decorations, and they would use Lady Anne’s decorations to decorate the tree after the family arrived.
Looking through her correspondence, Lizzy found a letter from Jane and quickly opened it:
*~*~*~*~*
Longbourn, 15 December 1811
Dearest Lizzy:
Can anyone be as happy as I? It will not be long before I hear dearly beloved myself, dear sister. I need assistance with coming back to earth!
You must have come to the conclusion by now that Papa has given my dear Charles his blessing on our union. If there is a better man, I do not know whom! Oh, I know you most likely believe your William exceeds him in essentials. But, then we both have our prefere
nces, do we not dear sister!
You may believe we have kept to perfect chastity, but I will not lie to you, dear sister. Once I convinced Charles to engage in a few stolen kisses, I found my expectations of what we bear in a marriage as women is not what I had once feared. I find I cannot wait till I am wed! Oh, I do believe our determination to wait until we are wed will stay in place. But it was bliss to experience the ecstasy of our first kiss. You may be shocked at me, if you dare!
We have planned our wedding for April. I will not complain. But with the fate and free will of Caroline and Mr. Elton’s recent scandalous marriage, as well as the loose lips of Meryton’s gossips, Charles feels the only way for us to reclaim some of his family’s reputation is to wait a proper period time before we wed.
I should tell you of Caroline’s wedding. Of all the indignities I had expected to experience, it was not as bad as I had originally considered it would be. Of course, her deception and plan to ruin your hopes came to naught but her own consequences. Perhaps it is never too late for love in her case. She seems quite happy with her lot in life. I have worked to keep an endeavour at civility between us, particularly during the brief period before her wedding. After all, she might not be the sister I always wanted; but nevertheless, she is to be my sister.
She wore an orange wedding gown, as we suspected she would, and had managed to obtain a beautiful piece of French lace she had dyed to match her dress—yes, it was orange as well.
Only Caroline insisted that her betrothed matched her in sense and sensibility, as he wore an orange vest under his hunter green formal waistcoat. Not every gentleman would care enough for his bride’s opinion to wear such a thing, but he appears happy she is to be the companion of his future life.
White Lies and Other Half Truths Page 22
