I Met Mr Darcy Via Luton

by Fredrica Edward

  "Oh," replied Darcy, remembering their own rather traumatic discussion of his familiarity with brothels. "Well, it is a very thoughtful present, both for you–because you like daisies; and for me. It was kind of your sister, especially given my interference between her and Bingley."

  "Indeed," said Elizabeth, "she is a much better person than I am–a real angel."

  Darcy snorted. "Bingley was right after all!"

  They both laughed at this, then Darcy made a grab for his wife. After a short tussle which culminated in him pinning her down for a passionate kiss, he drew back to survey his Elizabeth. Her eyes glittered, just like they did when they had an argument, and he realised there was something elemental there that attracted him–her eyes were a window to her fiery soul. He also noted with satisfaction that he had managed to release one breast from its delicate confinement.

  Rolling onto his back, he pulled his wife towards him, loosening the belt of the banyan to reveal he was naked underneath. He watched in fascination as she straddled him like she had done in the library on that night during their engagement, when her clumsy frisking had made him lose control so fast. When she engulfed him, he was prepared–he reined in his breathing while enjoying the spectacle of his holy grail sitting atop him. With a feeling of déjà vu, he recalled his morning dream of the hayloft. Darcy realised that this was what he had wanted most of all–for her to want him. He couldn't bring himself to ask her to hold down his hands, not yet; so he clasped her bottom instead. He found that her hands, pushing against his shoulders as she rode him, was more than satisfying.

  When Elizabeth began arching her back and tilting her head back in exultation, he could hold back no longer. He arched his own back in response, bucking her up as he thrust his hips into her, feeling her shudder as he found his own release.

  She collapsed on top of him, her breath stirring the hairs on his chest as they drifted off to sleep. After a short nap, he woke to find Elizabeth lying beside him, smiling at him.

  "What?" he asked, wondering what was going through her mind.

  "You have such beautiful eyelashes," she said. "I am jealous. Give me a butterfly kiss."

  "What on earth is that?"

  She brought her cheek up to his eye. "Now blink," she instructed.

  He did so and felt his lashes caress her cheek.

  She drew back, giggling.

  "You are my angel," he smiled.

  She snorted in derision.

  Darcy became serious and stroked Lizzy's cheek. "You are just as good as your sister, but in different ways. She may be more gracious than you, but you are more charitable and caring. So there are two Bennet angels."

  "Oh, there are three more in the making," said Lizzy, unwilling to accept the compliment. "They just haven't unfurled their wings yet."

  Darcy couldn't quite agree to this, but he wisely kept silent. After kissing his wife on the back of her neck, they fell back asleep, spooned together.

  Chapter 68: Lady Sefton's ball

  All good things must come to end, and after a fortnight it was time for Darcy to take his bride to Derbyshire. He had decided to make a token effort to socialise during his honeymoon by attending Lady Sefton's Ball, two nights before their departure. He hoped this would satisfy Mrs Bennet should she ask for details of their social engagements in London. Truth be told, Darcy feared most whether Mr Bennet might ask whether the modiste's gowns were of sufficient quality to appease the Ton. He knew Elizabeth's father already suspected him of lascivious dishonesty.

  Darcy would have preferred to attend a literary soirée, but he thought his wife might find easier society at a ball. He had no doubt the tabbies would try to rip her apart for her sin of not being a duke's daughter, and he thought it best to allow her to gain confidence in the company of young gentlemen who would be more willing to admire her. Lady Sefton was thought to be the least critical of the patronesses of Almack's.

  He had been drinking a fortifying glass of brandy in preparation for the ordeal when the sound of Elizabeth's footsteps descending the stairs prompted him to swig the last ounce and step into the hall. When she appeared on the landing, it occurred to Darcy that he might have overestimated his willingness to share his bride with male company. She looked radiant in one of the more spectacular gowns from Madame Bouchet.

  Smiling, he ran up a few steps to meet her and offer his arm as she descended, but as he got closer the expression froze on his face. Gone was the pretty country lass he had pursued and in her place was a woman of astonishing beauty and sophistication.

  "Are you all right, Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked, noticing his facial rigor.

  His throat seemed to have gone dry, and he coughed into his fist.

  "You look very beautiful tonight, Elizabeth," Darcy managed.

  "Why, thank you," she happily accepted. "I must admit that this is one of my favourite gowns from Madame Bouchet. As much as I liked my wedding dress, I think that dark colours suit me better. Your mother's garnet drops seemed to work the best with it."

  Darcy didn't seem too interested in the garnets–he was staring at her décolletage, and she sought to distract him.

  "I think Judy did a wonderful job with my hair. There is a large piece of cork in it, believe it or not. It is marvellous what a difference a really first rate maid can make!"

  This pronouncement seemed to partly accomplish the desired effect of shifting Darcy's attention upwards. Her eyes followed his fingers as they slid along her arm, before she ventured, "I was a bit unsure about it at first, but I think the makeup looks good too. When Judy first suggested it, I thought she was going to cover my face with macquillage, but she only added touches of colour here and there."

  Darcy finally met her eye with a rather unfocused stare. "Are you sure you wish to go to this ball?" he whispered.

  Elizabeth fixed her husband with a stern look.

  Lady Louisa Stuart, an early arrival at the ball, was playing cards in Lady Sefton's drawing room when the subject of Darcy arose.

  "I heard he made a shocking mésalliance with a daughter of a country squire from Hertfordshire. Do you know of them, Louisa?" asked Lady Bugle.

  "She is a Bennet from Longbourn, a small estate south of Meryton," replied Lady Louisa.

  "Indeed, I heard that she had no dowry at all!" said Lady Bugle. "He did not seem to be the sort of fellow to get himself entangled with an adventuress! He was always so standoffish at Almack's, but men have no self-control whatsoever! No doubt he compromised her and had to rush to the altar. Mark my words! We'll see an early babe in the Darcy household before Christmas."

  "I don't think so," stated Lady Louisa matter-of-factly. "I believe it was a true love match. He told me himself that he courted her for a year and had almost given up hope.

  There was general astonishment that any lady would be reluctant to wed the eligible Mr Darcy.

  "So have you met his bride?" asked Lady Jersey.

  "I attended their wedding two weeks ago," replied Lady Louisa.

  "And is she a great beauty?"

  "I do not think she would be considered so. She does not have enough vanity to earn that accolade. Her wedding dress was pretty rather than stunning, covered in daisies. I would guess she dresses mostly for comfort rather than for show. However, she looked very well at the wedding, so much so that the earl was casting his eye upon her, and you know he only concerns himself with diamonds of the first water."

  "Your brother?" cried one horrified lady, unaware that the Earl of Bute had epicurean tastes.

  Lady Louisa fixed her with a stare.

  "No, no," added Lady Jersey, rolling her eyes at such ignorance and lack of address. "Lady Louisa is referring to Darcy's uncle, the Earl of Matlock. I hear, Lady Louisa, that one of the earl's sons recently married property in Kent?"

  "Indeed, the earl's second son–a colonel in the cavalry, married his niece, Louis de Bourgh's only child," replied Lady Louisa.

  "I never met her," added Lady Bugle. "I gather she is a
wallflower."

  "She never had a season," replied Lady Jersey. "Apparently she is sickly."

  "I heard that she was meant for Darcy," added Lady Bugle.

  "A rumour only," stated Lady Louisa, "retailed by the earl's sister."

  "So if Mrs Darcy is not blooming, nor a beauty, what do you think possessed him to make such a choice?" asked Lady Bugle.

  "I cannot speak for him of course, but the lady has many admirable qualities. She is well read, something of wit…" said Lady Louisa, listing qualities that were close to her own heart and which her interlocutors immediately perceived could be applied to herself; "…and most notably has been a patron of a new hospital set up at Netherfield, the former estate of the Yardleys. Mr Darcy told me himself that her caring nature was one of the things that made him take notice of her."

  This last statement caused everyone to lose interest in Mrs Darcy–virtue is inherently boring. A discussion of ancestral estates that had been lost amidst the most shocking scandals was begun.

  Lady Louisa excused herself soon after and called for a chair, considering herself acquitted of her debt to society. She had a new manuscript from Mr Walter Scott to read, and she intended to spend the rest of the evening annotating this while she sipped a glass of port.

  Around half an hour later Elizabeth and Darcy walked in. They had taken the carriage, much to Lizzy's chagrin–the Sefton's lived in Belgravia Square, which was not much further from the Darcy townhouse than Hyde Park where the Darcys exercised Argos during the day–but they were in ball attire, and it was dark. Still, it was such a ridiculously short trip that Darcy sent the carriage home once they alighted at the Sefton's townhouse, requesting it return half-an-hour after midnight.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam found them within five minutes of their entry to the ballroom and immediately requested Lizzy's hand for the next set. Darcy had already secured his wife's hand for the supper set, and he proceeded to watch uneasily as several beaux appeared on the scene to request an introduction. Colonel Fitzwilliam performed these while Darcy fidgeted with his signet ring. He supposed he should be glad that Elizabeth's prospective dance partners seemed to be decent young fellows. None of the notorious rakes had yet made an appearance.

  Lizzy very much enjoyed her set with Colonel Fitzwilliam, who turned out to be quite an accomplished dancer. Afterwards, the colonel retired to his cousin's side to chat while they watched Mrs Darcy's progress with her other partners. Due to Darcy's distraction and his own willingness to divulge an amusing incident on his own wedding night, the colonel was able to extract some more details of Darcy's honeymoon than he had managed on his first attempt. He mentally resolved to get a copper bath for Anne.

  Finally the supper set was called, and Darcy was able to reclaim his wife for the waltz. They made a fine couple on the dance floor, twirling about with the ease of a married couple of several years standing. Watching, the colonel felt a twinge of jealousy.

  Their progress was also watched by Lady Sefton, who, with Lady Jersey, was preparing to usher everyone into supper.

  "Well, upon my word," said Lady Sefton. "I don't know what Louisa could have been thinking saying she is not a beauty! It seems the Earl of Matlock has more of the right of it."

  "What can you expect from a fifty-year old virgin?" retorted Lady Jersey, "Louisa spends far too much time with her nose in a book. But to my mind, the more interesting thing is Darcy–I have never seen him so animated."

  "So you think it is a love match after all?" asked Lady Sefton.

  "I believe so," said Lady Jersey.

  "Have they requested vouchers for Almack's?" asked Lady Sefton.

  "No," said Lady Jersey. "Apparently they are off to Derbyshire in the morning. I expect we won't see them again until Darcy's younger sister plans her come out."

  "So, do you think Mrs Darcy is worthy of Almack’s?"

  "Of course," said Lady Jersey. "She may be a country gentleman's daughter, but there is nothing wanting in her demeanour. She's already caught one of the biggest prizes in the marriage mart. She can be nothing but an asset to the establishment. They'll be lining up to dance with Darcy's sister. Her dowry is considerable, and she's no antidote. Her most glaring fault is her height, which will scare off a few Lilliputians, but they are of no consequence anyway."

  "My thoughts exactly," replied Lady Sefton. "I think I will send the vouchers anyway. Darcy will probably subscribe even if they don't come up to town for the whole season."

  Shortly after supper, the Darcys departed the ball. Fitzwilliam breathed a sigh of relief as he helped his wife into the carriage. He held her hand rather possessively all the way home and would not relinquish it when she sought to part from him on the second floor landing.

  "Fitzwilliam," chided Elizabeth, "Judy will be waiting for me."

  He ignored this, and with a beseeching look, continued to pull her up the stairs.

  Upon reaching his chambers, he quickly dismissed Finn, requesting he inform Judy that her services were also no longer required.

  As soon as Finn disappeared into the secret stair, Darcy embraced his wife in a passionate kiss and then proceeded to enact the plan that had been circulating in his head from the time he had first seen her at the top of the stairs in her ball gown. Grabbing Lizzy by the waist and planting her on the edge of the mattress, he quickly divested himself of his coat and hoisted her skirts aloft. Freeing his manhood from his breeches, he proceeded to take her there, boots and all.

  Of course, Lizzy had been aware of the direction of her husband's thoughts from the moment he had solicitously handed her into the carriage. She had not, however, thought the consummation would occur quite so precipitously after they arrived home. Indeed, she had been prepared to take off her ball gown and put on a nightgown, and then take that off in turn–but she had no objection to cutting to the chase. In fact she liked it very well. She twined her legs around his waist and clasped the butt of his breeches with her silken ballroom slippers.

  Afterwards, he collapsed on the bed with his boots hanging over the edge. After a short recovery period, they helped each other out of their clothes, Fitzwilliam even managing to free Elizabeth's hair of its accoutrements. Then they started all over again.

  He had whispered 'I love you, Lizzy' as they lay together afterwards, but when she turned over to reply she saw that he must have fallen asleep as soon as the words passed his lips. She stroked his glossy black curls and kissed his brow.

  "I love you too, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

  In all, it was a very fitting end to their honeymoon.

  Chapter 69: Happily ever after

  They set off from London early in the morning, planning to have lunch at Longbourn, where Georgiana would join them for the journey north.

  The short trip of twenty miles was accomplished in good time. Darcy, having slaked his lust the previous night, behaved himself in the carriage, and Lizzy arrived relatively unmolested at her family home.

  As soon as the carriage door was opened, Argos jumped down onto the gravel of the drive, waving his tail in a friendly manner at Georgiana, who had emerged from the portico with the three younger Bennet ladies. While salutations were being exchanged, Argos spotted the more exciting prospect of Mr Bennet's goat munching on a Scotch thistle and headed off in that direction at speed.

  Lydia, seeing his intent, made a determined lunge at his collar, but Argos was brought up short by a peremptory command by Darcy. The dog raced back to his master's heels, casting an innocent look upwards with his tongue lolling.

  Order restored, Lydia offered to take the hound for a walk, and Argos deigned to give his assent once Georgiana declared herself with the party. Darcy's sister was in high spirits after her sojourn in Hertfordshire.

  "Don't go too far," yelled Darcy, as they disappeared round the corner of house; "I'd like to get as far as Leicester tonight if we may."

  Mrs Bennet had made it to the front door, and after clapping her hands in delight at their arrival, she briefly embraced
her daughter before indicating to Darcy that she wished to bestow a kiss on him.

  He leant down fairly ungracefully while his wife watched him with arched eyebrows and a smirk on her face. Having literally bent Mr Darcy to her will, Mrs Bennet was in high flutter. She preceded them to the dining room, arranging everyone around the table to her satisfaction whilst simultaneously issuing orders to Hill.

  Within minutes, the repast was laid before them–a cold collation with mugs of ale for the gentlemen and tea for the ladies. A few morsels from this selection were sufficient to assuage Darcy's grumpiness due to hunger pangs. He could then enjoy the rest of the meal, letting Mrs Bennet's enthusiastic pronouncements wash over him while Elizabeth made suitable responses.

  His mind was already on the next leg of the journey. Darcy was determined to depart promptly after lunch so as to make good progress on the road north. If they were able to cover eighty miles in the remainder of the day, they could conceivably reach Pemberley in two days rather than three.

  "So, Mr Darcy," Mr Bennet's voice intruded upon his reverie. "Were Elizabeth's new accoutrements sufficient to appease the Ton?"

  Darcy smiled at Mr Bennet's sally–a message delivered at breakfast in London supplied the perfect answer. "Yes, Mr Bennet; Lady Sefton was kind enough to send vouchers for Almack's. I look forward to escorting Elizabeth there on our next visit to town. Please call me Fitzwilliam."

  Mr Bennet grunted but did not vouchsafe his own name. Darcy wondered if it was something he secretly hated, like Algernon…

  Elizabeth was anxious for news of Netherfield, and shortly after this was exchanged, Georgiana returned in order to partake of some lunch before their departure; her hair slightly mussed and her colour high. Darcy had never seen her looking so well. She explained that Argos had accepted Kitty and Lydia as playmates.

  Upon taking her seat, Georgiana begged that Mary be invited to Pemberley for the summer. When Darcy, who found it difficult to deny his sister anything, nonchalantly endorsed the project, Elizabeth suggested her papa should come also, so that he might appreciate what a fine library Pemberley boasted. Darcy was not so keen on this idea, but before he could politely change the subject, Mrs Bennet had started planning a holiday for the entire family. To Darcy's surprise, Mr Bennet expressed some enthusiasm for the idea, provided that it would occur at Christmas when he could conceivably arrange for the Gardiners to occupy Longbourn during their absence, as Longbourn did not possess a steward. It occurred to Lizzy that the Collins might be willing to manage the estate in the family's absence, but she dared not suggest it in front of her mother.