She did, wholeheartedly. They loved blissfully and, indeed, most satisfyingly.

Chapter Sixteen

Return to Pemberley

The day in mid July when the Darcys were to return to Pemberley dawned fair with the promise of extreme heat. Darcy woke even earlier than usual, the sun barely cresting the tops of the buildings surrounding Grosvenor Square. The bedchamber remained sunken in deep shadows, the drawn curtains effectively blocking the faint rays of light. Darcy lay comfortably in that hazy realm between sleep and full wakefulness. Elizabeth lay with her head nestled perfectly in the bend of his shoulder and chest, the remainder of her lovely body pressed firmly into his with one leg draped over him. Her steady respirations indicated her sleeping state.

Darcy smiled drowsily and pulled her closer, softly stroking her hip. The prospect of being home filled him with bliss and peace. This sojourn in London, although of less duration than usual, had without any doubt been his most satisfying in recent memory. The reason was all wrapped up with the woman he held in his arms… his wife. Each event attended, soiree or ball danced at, and conversation engaged in had transcended all past ones. In addition, he had managed to conclude all pressing business, paving the way for another long tarriance in Derbyshire.

His happiness was almost frightening in its intensity. That small pessimistic part of his subconscious occasionally reared up, invading his joy with a stab of fear. His heart would clench, breathing increase, and skin cool for brief moments, all evaporating the second she looked into his eyes or laughed her sparkling laugh. He simply could not harbor anxiety in a soul so utterly invaded with love. Is that not what the Scriptures taught? Light drives out all darkness? She was his light, his lover, his breath and heartbeat, his soul.

He yawned and stretched slightly, not wishing to wake her. It was very early and, once again, they had entered their bed late. His greatest concern lately had been her health. While his arm healed and strength increased, Elizabeth had grown paler, with tiny lines of weariness appearing about her fine eyes. It was the endless agenda of visitations and parties in which she insisted they partake. Despite his assurances to the contrary, she yet fretted over his societal responsibilities and continued to foster a residual need to prove herself to both him and the ton. It angered him and they had argued over it, but she could not be swayed.

Recognizing that his irritation and attempts at logic merely wore on her already fragile emotions, he turned in frustration to his Aunt Madeline. She encouraged him to surrender and allow Elizabeth to follow through on what she perceived as her responsibility to him.

“Elizabeth is far stronger than you give her credit, William. She is well, and the child is well. She needs to do this to feel wholly competent as Mistress and Mrs. Darcy. Soon you shall be in Pemberley without the demands on your wife. In the end, this time to dazzle society and win their approval will benefit her heart and mind. Quit playing the mothering hen, and leave her be. Do not attempt to comprehend her emotions because she is a female and you will not succeed. Instead, trust me and trust her. Your wife loves you, William, and does this for you, however misplaced you deem it. Show your appreciation and quit harping!”

Thus, he had done so, as difficult as it was. His relief at the prospect of being surrounded by the solitude of Pemberley was a tangible thing; however, he could not deny that Elizabeth had dazzled the ton, far beyond what he had expected. His pride in her had grown profoundly. She was amazing in all ways and he loved her deeply for the extents she had gone to for him. Once he figuratively stepped back and allowed her free rein, it further stunned him at the breadth of her nearly inexhaustible stamina and shrewd assimilation of society's mores. She was always perfectly groomed, always witty and lively, remembered all names and gossipy facts gleaned, was suitably serious or humorous depending on the situation, never remotely overstepped the boundaries of propriety, and never once forgot that she was Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley. In all situations she shone, yet in a way that placed the spotlight equally on both of them.

If all that was not enough, she heightened his love and respect by always supremely placing his needs and desires first. She met his hungry passion with equal fervor, devoted time to be with him, and proved daily, in the minutest details, just how boundless her love, adoration, and appreciation. The unique methods she devised to demonstrate her love amazed him. For instance, each meal taken at home included at least one of his favorite dishes. In fact, lemon-flavored desserts in dozens of varieties had so frequently been served that he was nearly to the point of desiring to never see a lemon for the remainder of his life. Not that he would dream of revealing this to her.

There were the little gifts she purchased for him whenever she wandered near a shopping district; the fresh cut flowers daily placed by her hand in his dressing room; the household duties she flawlessly assumed that, in turn, freed his time; the spontaneous massages to his feet or neck, shoulders or back; the tea or cocoa or brandy she brought to his study while he worked; and the notes she secreted in one of his pockets whenever he left the house. The first time she had done this, the third day after arriving in London, he had discovered the folded piece of parchment while in a meeting with Mr. Andrew Daniels. The note was brief, but contained an explicit reference to a particular part of his anatomy, raising a brisk flush to his cheeks and causing Mr. Daniels to inquire after his health! Some of the notes simply said “I love you” or something equally romantic, some were humorous or contained a short sonnet, others were extremely intimate or downright erotic. He never knew what to expect. His favorite was the one which merely had an imprint of her perfectly pursed and luscious lips. All of them now resided in his third box of Elizabeth-related mementos.

Darcy smiled into the fading light, turning to plant a tender kiss to her head as he sighed. God, how I love her! He captured a clump of her scattered hair, running it through his fingers and bringing it to his nose to inhale her scent. Lavender, as usual, and soft as silk. Seven months plus they had now been wed. Such a short amount of time, really, in the larger span of one's entire life. Yet, for both of them, it was as an eternity while also seeming like a mere day. They knew each other so intimately, their faults and virtues revealed in total, and they were connected on a visceral level; nevertheless, they still were daily stunned at how tremendously they desired to understand even more of each other. Not merely physically, although their ardor certainly was intense, but in even the tiniest ways. Simply to be in the same room was bliss.

Darcy turned slightly, gently drawing her even closer. He could feel the firm swell of their child pressing against his hip. Three times now in the past week Lizzy had felt the baby push into her hand. Each time she had dashed to wherever he was; the last time had occurred just the day before while he was in his bath. Samuel had started, almost dropping the bucket of water onto Darcy's head, but recovered quickly. He was quite used to these sorts of interruptions now and exited hastily, neither of them noticing. Darcy had intently and patiently waited, but the baby did not cooperate. His disappointment was acute. He would never admit it, but he had moments of serious pique thinking it monumentally unfair that Elizabeth was the only recipient of these marvelous sensations when he was equally responsible for the child's existence!

He sighed again and closed his eyes, attempting to recapture sleep, although he knew it was fruitless. He ached to be home with an urgency only once matched, and that was when they were first married. The reasons were similar: He wanted to be alone with his wife. Darcy jested about being a selfish man, yet it was banter based partially on fact. He selfishly wanted her all to himself without the endless demands of work or society. Before they knew it, the baby would be born, and as anxious and excited as they were, the reality is that life would drastically change. These next few months, to his reckoning, must be treasured.

Sadly, their complete solitude would not commence quite yet. Charles and Jane would be traveling with them and planned to stay for at least two weeks, possibly more. The Bingleys wished to examine the Hasberry Estate, and Elizabeth expressed the desire to spend quality sister time, the two having had few occasions over the past weeks to be alone. If all went according to the Darcys’ hopes, the Bingleys would be settled in Derbyshire by winter. Caroline Bingley had somehow insinuated herself into the invitation. Darcy was not at all pleased, but, as Charles was his dearest friend, he had grit his teeth and succumbed.

Mary was to stay with the Gardiners for a spell, the courtship with Mr. Daniels progressing at a steady pace, but Kitty would be joining the Darcys for a few weeks. Georgiana was in tears at leaving Mary behind, but the friendship with Kitty had finally blossomed, and allowing her to join the entourage traveling to Pemberley eased Georgiana's unhappiness.

Dr. Penaflor and Uncle George planned to stay in London for an additional week or so before traveling to Pemberley in time for the Summer Festival. How long they intended to stay in England was a mystery. George was taking his “vacation” quite seriously, refusing to discuss timetables or pinpoint agendas with any degree of accuracy. Darcy smiled and chuckled lowly. In truth, he was delighted with his uncle and Raul Penaflor, both men welcome to stay forever if they wished it. The combined persuasion of every member of the family, aided by the insistence of Anne herself, had finally worn on Lady Catherine and she had allowed both doctors to examine Anne. The collaborating diagnosis was chronic anemia, to the near apoplectic rage of Anne's aged physician, who had screamingly abused both men with accusations ranging from quackery to witchcraft and more. Surprisingly, it was Anne herself who commanded a servant to physically remove the man, with Lady Catherine frozen in shock and at a rare loss for words. The remedies prescribed were primarily dietary in nature, with a regimen of herbal extract teas and a special tonic. How she would respond to the treatment remained to be seen, but Darcy was hopeful. He and Elizabeth formally invited Anne to Pemberley for the Festival, but definitive plans were yet to be made. Lord and Lady Matlock had taken the entire, “Anne Situation”—as they jokingly referred to it—under their jurisdiction.