Her squirming became frantic with the urgent need to hold him, and she arched into his flaming body, moaning and whimpering. “Please, William!” she cried in desperation.

“What do you want, my wife?”

“I need you!”

“Tell me what you need,” he commanded.

“I must have you. Hurry!”

His voice was guttural and hoarse with desire and jealousy and a hint of vulnerability. “Say you want me, Elizabeth, only me!”

Somehow through the haze of her passion-induced stupor, Lizzy heard and sensed the frailty in his tone. A pang of guilt ran through her and she forced her eyes open. He was watching her with a dreadful intensity. As calmly and softly as possible, she said, “Always and forever it is you, Fitzwilliam. Only you I want and need… ” Her words were cut off by a massive gasp of sensual delight as he claimed her mouth, her body, her heart, and her soul.

When they were blissfully spent, he rolled to the side, bringing her with him in a tight embrace. It was a while before either of them had sufficient lung capacity to speak. It was Darcy who broke the silence, “I am sorry, Elizabeth, if I was too rough, if I frightened you.” He sounded so miserable and regretful. “I should not have allowed my petty jealousy to govern me. My passion for you overruled my senses.”

Elizabeth rose up to see his face and was pained by the sadness she saw where only happiness should reign. “William, look at me,” she demanded, and he did. “If there is fault, it is mine for making such a poor jest. My tongue often rules over my reason, as you know.” She moved closer, grasping his face in her hands firmly. “I love you beyond the words to express it. It frightens me how much I love you because my very existence is now inexorably bound to yours. I am not easy with these feelings of vulnerability. It is my nature to make light of serious matters or to tease when I am afraid. Forgive me for my thoughtlessness.”

He opened his mouth to reply but she stopped him with her fingers to his lips. “Know this,” she continued, “You are everything to me. I have never loved another and I never will. I dream only of you and I desire only you. You have bewitched me, body and soul, Fitzwilliam Darcy. You are mine!” she finished fiercely and kissed him ravenously.

When she eventually released him, he was breathless and flushed, lips ruddy and swollen. She smiled then, a smile of pure naughtiness, as she ran a finger along his jaw. “Besides,” she said, “I rather liked what you did to me, if you could not tell. Rough is acceptable now and then.”

Darcy was at a momentary loss for words. Her declaration of love using the spontaneously uttered phrase from his successful proposal, followed by the intensity of her kiss, was a thrilling surprise and soothing balm to his fragile heart. He did not doubt the sincerity of her expressed love for him but was uncertain if its depth matched the all-consuming passion he held for her. Equally titillating was her obvious reciprocating ardor. He knew that Lizzy was passionate by nature; nonetheless, he had not allowed himself to automatically assume this would transfer to bedroom activities.

While his mind was still whirling, Lizzy further proved her love and desire for her new husband by snuggling nearer and bestowing kisses to his chest, thus beginning a long interlude of mutual exploration and pleasure.

Quite some time later, blissfully content in their sweet communion and satisfaction, Lizzy broke the silence first.

“William, may I ask you a personal question?” she inquired faintly and with hesitation, not meeting his eyes.

“Of course, beloved, you can ask anything of me. Have we not established this?”

She did not reply hastily; instead, she toyed with the hairs on his chest and kept her face turned away. Darcy frowned, sensing her discomfiture and beginning to feel a rising concern. Just as he was about to force her to look at him, she spoke.

“Before our wedding, when I told you about my fears and nightmares and you shared your past with me, you assured me you were… chaste as I was. I do not doubt your assertions. I know you would never deceive me, yet you…” She paused, not sure of the proper words to say or how to overcome her embarrassment to proceed.

Darcy was flummoxed as to where she was leading. He had been truthful with her regarding his innocence and could not understand her thoughts, especially in light of how amazing the consummation of their union has been. Was she disappointed? Had he failed her in some way? He paled and the fears of inadequacy shoved aside before their marriage came crashing over him. He struggled to formulate a thought but then she resumed her inquiry.

“Perhaps I am merely displaying my own innocence and… ignorance, William, but you seem to be… well, knowledgeable and confident, and… frankly, I did not anticipate… our… joining being so wonderful!”

In a rush of emotions, Lizzy conquered her shyness and embarrassment. She lifted up and actually glared at her husband, as if challenging him to give an explanation.

Darcy experienced a profound wave of relief and, truth be told, no minute amount of egotistical satisfaction at her confession, so he laughed.

Her eyes opened wide and then narrowed dangerously. “Fitzwilliam Darcy! Do not laugh at me. This is serious.”

He hugged her tight to his chest and kissed her cheek and, still chuckling, captured her face in his hands and held her eyes intently with his shining blue ones. “Elizabeth, you delight me so. I honestly divulged my virginity to you, and I am abundantly thankful the situation arose for me to do so. I entered our marriage inexperienced, beloved, with no practical knowledge. However, I never claimed to be uneducated. I told you how precocious I was and how adamantly my father assured my education. There are many ways to learn, and Pemberley has a very extensive library.”

Lizzy’s eyes widened and then she laughed. She kissed him lightly. “Will you show me these books, Fitzwilliam?” she asked, smiling wickedly.

It was nearing ten o’clock before they finally arose from their tousled bed. Darcy was quite famished again and needed coffee. He rang for breakfast while Elizabeth retired to her dressing room to freshen up. Darcy also took the time to clean himself up, pulling on a shirt and breeches at random.

The breakfast tray arrived just as Elizabeth reentered the room. She had clad herself in a lovely burgundy gown that Darcy had never seen before. Her face was pink from washing, and she had hastily pulled her hair back with a white ribbon, so it hung as a tail down her back. Darcy was struck anew by how beautiful she was and how marvelous it was to be married so he could view her in such casual attire. Elizabeth was thinking the very same thought. She adored how handsome her husband looked with his shirt loosely tucked and open at his neck, feet bare. He was handsome in his complete dress, but here was a picture of him that only she would be privy to.

After a quick kiss, they sat down. Elizabeth curled up in the chair, tucking her feet under her. She poured coffee for Darcy and tea for herself. The simple task of serving her husband sent a surge of happiness through her heart. For his part, Darcy could not cease staring at her. After all that had transpired yesterday and last night and this morning, it still seemed dreamlike that they had finally arrived at this place when, for so long, he had despaired of ever being with her.

“You are staring, Mr. Darcy. Do I have a distracting blemish on my face?” she teased.

He laughed, “Sorry, my dear. No, you do not have any blemishes. I am entranced by your beauty, that is all.”

“Quite the flatterer you have become, sir. So charming. Who would believe it of you?”

“Well, as I intend to save my best flattery for when we are alone, no one would believe you even if you were to inform them.”

“So, am I to infer that you will be devising and practicing said flattery beforehand? If so, you must remember to give as unstudied an air as possible.”

Darcy grinned at her reference. “Perhaps I shall occasionally plan my flattery; however, as you are well aware of how uncreative I am, my dear, I would imagine that the pleasing compliments will usually proceed from the impulse of the moment.”

They both laughed and she threw a grape at him. “Ridiculous man! Read your newspaper and let me eat in peace!”

He did his best to comply with her request, discovering that it was quite challenging to focus on world events with her across the table. As the meal proceeded, they both relaxed. Neither of them knew it at the time, but they were innocently setting the stage for what was to become a morning ritual for the rest of their lives. Except for those occasions when guests were present or business separated them, they would breakfast together quietly each day in their joint sitting room. Darcy would read the newspaper and Elizabeth would read a book. They would discuss their daily plans or estate business or items from the news. The staff would be instructed not to interrupt the Master and Mistress until they were called for. Even their children would breakfast apart. This time would become a favorite and necessary part of their day.