The declarations and stimulation encompassed every part of her body. When he eventually drove home, as she humorously termed it, burying himself deeply within those secret places that were only and forever his to explore and bring pleasure, their passions were once again surging and raging.

He held her face within the palms of his hands, kissing slowly as his body tirelessly rocked in a measured rhythm. She rose to meet him, her legs wound about his waist and buttocks, the undulant motion controlled and synchronized blissfully. Soft murmurs of love and desire sporadically mixed with the pants and moans. But their faces never parted more than a few inches. Lips nuzzled and kissed, noses brushed cheeks, eyes fluttered open for brief connections, and breath mingled.

Their breathing grew ragged, the tempo quickening as their grips tightened. Darcy clutched her firmly as she did him, fused along every surface. His lidded eyes locked onto her glorious face until the last possible second when the need overwhelmed. He arched his neck, eyes closing as the spasms of intense pleasure rocked their bodies, groaning as he emptied himself thoroughly until finally collapsing into the bend of her neck.

They returned to Pemberley the next day with Lizzy glowing, completely free of cold symptoms, and utterly refreshed. Darcy was invigorated as well, the holiday clearly one highly beneficial to both of them.

The following month passed in a blur. The winter of 1818 was far milder than the previous one. The temperature dropped low enough to freeze the drizzle into light dustings of snow upon occasion, but it never lasted long enough to accumulate before a warmer air current melted it away. When it came to traveling, this was a positive in not being so coldly uncomfortable, but the nearly constant moisture turned the roads into a muddy quagmire. The Darcy coach was sturdy and pulled by strong horses, but the going was slow.

For that reason, they decided to remain in London after Richard and Simone’s wedding, keeping their agendas open ended. Darcy attended to business and his favored pursuits while Lizzy and Georgiana shopped and visited with the few friends present in Town prior to the official Season.

Thus, they were in their Darcy House bedchamber on a dreary morning in early February when Lizzy abruptly woke while lying in her husband’s arms. She roughly disengaged her limbs from his, her elbow and heels painfully striking his inert flesh a time or two, vaulted out of bed, and barely reached her chamber pot before becoming violently ill.

Trembling and with stomach churning, she shuffled into the bedchamber holding a wet cloth against her forehead. A sleepy, slightly bruised, but anticipatory Darcy sat waiting in the bed for her return. “Are you? That is, do you think?”

Lizzy gingerly laid back down, glaring into her husband’s shining eyes from underneath the compress, and answered in a clipped tone, “I cannot be certain, Fitzwilliam, but it certainly seems probable that your wish for another child may be true.”

Darcy chuckled, managing to control the overwhelming urge to leap from the bed and dance about the room, nestling his wife close to his warm body. “This is amazing news, my love! I knew we conceived while at Matlock Bath! Did I not say so at the time? I could feel it, I just knew! Remember?”

Lizzy smiled faintly at the raging enthusiasm that was rapidly threatening to override his restraint. “Yes, I recall very well, Mr. Darcy. Your rather smug assertions in the ability to impregnate upon demand were abundantly conveyed. How proud you must be.”

Darcy laughed harder, kissing with gusto, before pulling away to smooth the hair from her brow with a tender caress. He gently pressed the damp cloth over her pale cheeks, his radiant grin not completely hiding his concern for her well-being. Still, his happiness and pride ruled.

“When, do you think? On our first day, when we made love before the fire with you astride me, and the flames flickered over your skin? That was incredible. Or the time we woke in the darkness of pre-dawn. God, you were unbelievable! I saw stars, Elizabeth, and not because we tumbled to the floor. And that last night. Yes, that may be it! Your eyes were glowing as we finished, and I thought I would never stop shuddering with pleasure and filling you. I was blissfully drained. Or maybe…”

“You forgot to mention the pool, when you tackled me so roughly that I scraped my backside.” Her tone was teasing but vaguely surly.

He chuckled, rubbing over the long since healed minor abrasion on her tailbone. “I apologize again, my love”—his tone was low and not the slightest bit remorseful—“but Lord help me, it was worth any pain! I nearly fainted from the heavenly satisfaction.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled. “It wasn’t your bottom bruised.”

He threw his head back laughing, Lizzy slapping him on the arm and trying to twist away in irritation. He tightened his grip, however, drawing her closer and kissing her pouting lips. “Is it to begin already, my sweet? The honeyed disposition of early pregnancy? At least now I am prepared for the symptom and can lock my study door while conducting business.”

He was grinning broadly, wearing an expression ageless as all men somehow conclude that pregnancy is in greater part a result of their virility, as if the woman has scant to do with the inception.

“Hysterical. Since you apparently are the sole instigator of my condition then I judge it only fair if you must live with the symptomatic consequences!”

“My Lizzy, my beloved wife. I will tolerate anything for you and the blessing of another child growing within. I am so happy! Please tell me you are as well?”

Lizzy smiled softly, reaching to stroke over his stubbly cheeks. “I am only teasing you, William. Of course I am happy! Another child with your eyes and face would please me greatly. Another angel to love and cherish. A sibling for our precious Alexander. Our baby created from our deep love and passion. How could I not be overjoyed?”

“I love you, Elizabeth.”

“And I love you, my darling husband.” They kissed slowly, reverently, Darcy’s strong hand moving to caress over her abdomen in tender awe. Lizzy suddenly giggled, breaking the kiss.

Darcy’s brow rose questioningly, luminous jubilation not diminished in the slightest by her oddly placed humor. “Have I amused you, Mrs. Darcy?”

“I was just remembering how wild we were in Matlock. You were an untamed beast and I was as crazed, hence why you felt so certain a baby would be the result. Let us just pray that atmospheric conditions and frenzied lovemaking do not influence personality traits!” 

Acknowledgments

Major thanks to Deb Werksman, Dominique Raccah, Danielle Jackson, Sarah Ryan, and Susie Benton for continuing to believe in me and being so awesome at what they do. For everyone else at Sourcebooks who does a brilliant job of bringing my books to gorgeous, perfect life: You folks rock!

I can never thank my faithful readers enough for their kindness and support. I hope that each of you knows how incredible you are and how inspiring it is to have satisfied, vocal fans. To my TSBO devotees. Vee, Simone, Esther Ann, Seli, Julie C., Jen, May, Kathy SF, Jeane, Susanne, and Elly, you ladies have been there since the beginning: I love you all.

Huge hugs to my Casablanca sisters for welcoming me in, supporting and encouraging, sharing their wisdom, and for just being totally awesome! Identical warm fuzzies for my local RWA chapter, the Yosemite Romance Writers. You ladies are terrific and darned fun to hang out with.

A special, broad sweeping thank you to the people who individually or collectively provide online resources to writers of history. I certainly would have been lost without you. In that same vein: Thanks to blog/website owners who share their knowledge and time to assist and promote authors. Personally, I can’t imagine doing any of this without the Internet. The plethora of sites out there in cyber-land is invaluable.

I can never pass up a chance to thank my wonderful family. My husband Steve, daughter Emily, and son Kyle are amazing and so supportive. They make it happen for me! Lastly, to my Lord who is faithfully and lovingly continuing to teach me life lessons through all of this, even when I am kicking and screaming! He is forever merciful and gracious, thank goodness. 

About the Author

Sharon Lathan is a native Californian currently residing amid the orchards, corn, cotton, and cows in the sunny San Joaquin Valley. Happily married for twenty-four years to her own Mr. Darcy, and mother to two wonderful children, she divides her time between housekeeping tasks, nurturing her family, church activities, and working as a registered nurse in a neonatal ICU. Throw in the cat, dog, and a ton of fish to complete the picture. When not at the hospital or attending to the dreary tasks of homemaking, she is generally found hard at work on her faithful laptop.

For more information about Sharon, the Regency Era, and her bestselling Darcy Saga series, visit her website/blog at: www.sharonlathan.net or www.darcysaga.net.