“Not all men are as special as my brother, Mary,” Georgiana said, interrupting her musings, “and Elizabeth now takes great pains to dress to her station and to please her husband. You do wish to be married, do you not?”

“Naturally she does!” Kitty answered for her, as if the converse concept was unfathomable. “How about the dark blue gown, Georgiana? It is simple, a somber color, yet designed so beautifully.”

“Yes! Excellent choice, Kitty!” Georgiana ducked back into her closet, returning moments later with the gown indicated. “This is perfect, Mary. Here, try it on.”

Mary scrambled for an excuse, in truth adoring the gown in question. “I do not think one of your dresses will fit me, and what about the—”

“Try it on!” Kitty and Georgiana interjected simultaneously with exasperation, Mary relenting with a sigh.

Down on the first floor, the Darcys sat in quiet company. Darcy read the day's newspaper and drank coffee. His wife finished the last pages of her book while sipping tea and nibbling on a piece of marmalade-smeared toast. Lizzy closed the book with a happy sigh and glanced over at her frowning, intently reading spouse.

“Bad news, William?” He did not answer, wholly absorbed in the words before him. “Dearest? Fitzwilliam? Mr. Darcy?”

“Pardon?” He looked up with a start.

“What has so captivated your attention, love?”

He waved his hand airily. “Nothing really. Just a minor riot at the docks last evening. These occurrences happen from time to time. Apparently, a group of Scots took issue with slurs trumpeted by a shipload of Irish and a brawl ensued. I was concerned as one of my ships is currently docked there, but the melee was further upriver thankfully.” He nodded toward her hands. “You finished your book?”

“Yes. It was very good, as you professed. Rather deep and meditative, however. I believe I am now in the mood for fluff.” She took a bite of toast and stood, walking toward the bookcase, Darcy observing with a smile.

“How about the one Aunt Madeline lent you? The Mysteries of Udolpho. Sounds appropriately fluffy to me.”

Lizzy glanced over her shoulder. “A perfect woman's book, you mean. All romance, castles, villains, and lovers.”

He shrugged and laughed. “You said you wanted fluff. I am merely trying to assist you in not taxing your fragile brain.”

“I would argue or tickle you into begging my forgiveness, but at the moment I find I concur with your assessment.” She pulled the indicated volume off the shelf, flipping it open as she did. Moments later she felt the delightful sensation of warm, strong hands on her shoulders. Peering up at her smiling husband, she asked, “Riots, world events, and the finance page no longer interest you, my love?”

“Not as greatly as this tiny spot of skin right here,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss behind her left ear. She sighed as he proceeded to tenderly suck her earlobe then traveled down the slope of her neck while peeling the robe off her shoulders. Gathering her hair in his right hand to pull the thick mass aside, he attacked the nape of her neck with soft lips, shivers cascading down her spine. His left hand dipped into her bodice to cup one full breast. Lizzy pressed her bottom into him and he responded as would be expected. “I adore you, my Lizzy. Love you so immensely.”

“Do you want me, Fitzwilliam?” she asked with a purr. “Desperately?”

He moved to the other breast while simultaneously clutching her hip and pulling harshly against him. “Always I want you, my love. To love you, to be inside you while touching your flesh is my greatest joy.” He met her eyes, passion evident in darkened orbs. “I woke this morning with your glorious bared body beside me and I was painfully aroused. I urgently desired you, but you slept peacefully, so instead I contented myself with gazing at your beauty and cupping my palm over our child. Then you woke and expressed immediate hunger, which I certainly cannot in good conscience deny you, as your increased appetite is partially my fault.” He laughed, rubbing over her mildly protruding stomach before traveling lower with probing caresses. “Now, however, you have satisfied one pressing hunger and I have satisfied none.” He left her bosom to stroke her jaw and cheek, inclining to taste sweet lips.

Leaning fully onto his body, head resting on his right shoulder, Lizzy submitted to the rampant vibrations elicited by skillful fingers and mouth. “Elizabeth, my precious, beautiful wife. I love you forever. The very thought of you excites me tremendously. Your scent, your velvet skin, your breath, your touch…” Endlessly he whispered as he kissed over her neck and shoulder. Darcy was a verbal lover, Lizzy had discovered to her delight. Unless his mouth was otherwise occupied, he generally was expressing words of love and pleasure. It was enormously stimulating, Lizzy found, for both of them. Lizzy tended to principally remain silent and had asked him if this dismayed him in any way. Darcy had smiled and laughed lowly, grasping her cheeks as he replied, “Oh, my lovely Lizzy, you are not the least bit silent when we make love. You moan and sigh and gasp and articulate the most amazingly sensual sounds, all unwittingly in response to me. Then, invariably, you cry my name. You need say nothing else for me to know how profoundly I have moved and gratified you.”

Such was the case now, as her incredible husband murmured love while arousing her body with an infinitely perfect touch. For a blissful period of time, they loved as they stood, finding that no place was beyond acceptable for the passion which raced through them. In time, Darcy halted, pulling her hard against his heaving and trembling chest. “My love,” he rasped, “come to our bed so I can love you face to face.” He inhaled shakily. “I would carry you, but I do not trust my strength.”

Lizzy pivoted in his arms with a sigh, capturing his mouth with a hungry urgency and stepping toward the door. Thus entwined and kissing voraciously, they slowly reached their intended destination. Lizzy discarded his encumbering robe, baring all his flushed skin to her seeking strokes. Darcy preferred to keep her gown on, experiencing one of those times when her partially and gauzily draped form whetted his appetite. He sat her on the edge of their bed, kneeling on the floor amid her parted legs.

They allowed a moment to calm and gaze at each other, visually feasting on the beauty to be found in the other's body. Darcy ran light fingertips all over her, admiring and worshipping, but especially thanking God for bringing her into his life. Lizzy kissed sensitively over the colorful contusion to his left chest, palms brushing up and down his back, across derriere and hips.

Lizzy smiled, meeting his intensely blue eyes. “Bruised and beaten, you are still stunningly gorgeous, my husband, my lover. How handsome you are, William! Hard, muscular, skin so soft and fair, your hairs exquisite under my hands,” she caressed up his chest to his neck as she said, “straight shoulders and your neck, I love your neck! I do not know why exactly, but I think it my favorite part of you, although that is impossible to pinpoint.” She finished with a laugh, pulling him to her lips as she fell onto the bed.

Darcy wasted no time returning to the warmth of her body. They kissed fervidly between pants and gasps of pleasure. Lizzy clutched his shoulders, squeezing mindlessly and causing Darcy to release a muffled cry of pain.

“Oh William, I am so sorry! Are you…?”

He shook his head and smiled, only momentarily faltering in expressing his ardency for her. After a dynamic period of amatory delight, Darcy rose up, smoothing hair from her perspiring, rosy face. “Mrs. Darcy, I adore you,” he huskily whispered. “More than my life, I love you and always shall.” He kissed her lips, loving totally until both were overcome with flaming sensations.

As he shuddered and fell to rest his head on her chest with unsteady respirations, Lizzy laced fingers through his hair, fighting for oxygen as well, yet contented and trembling with bliss. In time their breathing slowed and Darcy kissed her breasts, lifting to gaze into her glazed brown eyes. She smiled, reaching to feather over his face.

“I love you,” she said simply.

“I love you,” he answered back, smiling as he kissed her. “Every time with you, my heart, is better than the last. Is this possible?”

“Our love grows, dearest. I suppose it is a reflection of that.”

Darcy stood shakily then flopped onto the bed, drawing her into a tight embrace. Lizzy nestled as close as feasible, inhaling deeply of his male aroma that was augmented deliciously by love-induced sweat. She delicately fondled him, reveling in the afterglow of their rapture and so exhilarated to simply be near him. She kissed his chest. “I wish we could stay like this all day. Rest for a spell then make love again, eat a bit then make love more. I think I could happily remain in your embrace for all eternity, endlessly touching and arousing you.” She giggled then looked up into his sparkling eyes. “See what you have done to me? Hopelessly wanton and amorous.”