They loved each other fully until spent utterly, bodies melting together and breathing heavily. They stared, imprisoned in the other’s gaze for long moments as they embraced and caressed.

“Fitzwilliam Darcy, would that I could convey how miraculously exquisite you are when aroused and when we…” she closed her eyes and kissed him tenderly. “I do not have the words,” she whispered. “My heart is bursting with love for you my husband… my darling… my lover and my soul.”

He smiled, fingers caressing her lovely face. “My wife… my precious wife. Shall I chronicle how resplendent your face is in your rapture? You are luminous: your eyes shining with devotion and excitement, your lips swollen and ruddy from my kisses, a light sheen of perspiration gracing your perfect brow, your cheeks sanguine with desire. Always you are beautiful, my Lizzy, but never more so than when you give yourself to me intimately.”

They kissed, tenderly and languidly, not wishing to part until finally Lizzy spoke softly, “William, my legs are numb.”

He chuckled, taking his kisses to her throat and ear. “Then I shall carry you to our bed, dearest, where I intend to undress you gradually as you undress me, after which I intend to kiss and caress and nibble,” accenting his proclamations with demonstrations, “every inch of you until you are aroused anew and begging me for the satisfaction only I can offer.” He lifted her easily with his strong hands, readjusted his clothing and hers, checked the corridor, and then swept her into his powerful arms.

For over an hour they loved, Darcy fulfilling his promise and wholly gratifying his wife, and himself.

The Gardiners arrived around three in the afternoon. Lizzy and Darcy, refreshed and glowing, welcomed them to Pemberley. Despite the difference in their ages, Darcy got on famously with Lizzy’s uncle and was genuinely glad to see him. The Gardiners had become acquainted with the Colonel in London and at the wedding, and Richard’s sunny disposition was such that Lizzy could not imagine anyone disliking him. After a brief respite in the main parlor, the gentlemen retired to the billiard room, Darcy with a lingering caress and kiss to Lizzy’s hand.

Lizzy accompanied her aunt to the suite set aside for them; Georgiana left to practice carols on her pianoforte. Her aunt wasted no time in commenting on Lizzy’s obvious felicity.

“Oh, Aunt Violet, I cannot express in mere words how happy I am! Marriage is vastly superior to anything I could have envisioned.”

“Well, my dear, at least marriage to the right man is!” They both laughed. “How are you finding Pemberley? Overwhelming?”

“Yes, a little. William has been patient and attentive, escorting me everywhere, hardly leaving my side. Mrs. Reynolds, in truth all the staff, have been enormously supportive and kind. I do have so very much to learn, though.”

“Is Mr. Darcy pressuring you in any way?”

“Oh no! Quite the opposite. He is immeasurably patient and actually seems nonchalant regarding the subject. He dotes on me profoundly. I fear I shall quickly become horribly spoilt if he does not desist.”

Her aunt laughed. “I doubt this, Lizzy. It is not in your nature to be unappreciative or influenced by luxury. Embrace his love and allow him to express it. I believe it is good for both of you. Mr. Darcy is altogether more buoyant and amiable, and you have a steadiness and peace hovering about you. It is refreshing to see you both so well matched. I reckon I need not ask how the physical aspect of your relationship fares,” she continued in that forthright manner of hers, “as it is clearly written upon both your countenances and obvious in your demeanor.”

Lizzy unwittingly assumed a dreamy expression. “Aunt, it is everything you told me and more. William is… amazing, wonderful, gentle, and passionate. I am so very blessed and satisfied.” She blushed then but her aunt chuckled.

The Lathrops arrived around six. Mr. Lathrop was much shorter than Darcy, about the same height as Lizzy, stocky with a ruddy complexion, blond hair, and hazel eyes. His wife Amelia was the same height as her husband, full figured, plump, with green eyes, fiery red hair, and a profusion of freckles. Darcy greeted his friend with delight, ushering them inside the manor rapidly as snow was beginning to fall. Introductions were made in haste as all parties, especially the Lathrops who were fatigued from their extended journey, needed time to freshen up before dinner.

Lizzy counted this meal the first official feast of the season and had planned accordingly. There were ham, turkey, and pheasant, an abundant variety of vegetables and breads, pastries and pies and puddings. The large table was laden to capacity, the guests animated, and the atmosphere celebratory.

Lizzy sat Mrs. Lathrop to her right. It was apparent that the young woman was weary, yet still she was talkative and pleasant. Her lovely Scottish lilt was musical and husky. Conversation flowed and Lizzy was drawn to her outgoing, candid nature. She was quick witted, spirited, and occasionally verged on crudeness, but Lizzy liked her.

Per protocol, the ladies and gentlemen separated after dinner for a spell, Lizzy hosting her guests in her newly redecorated parlor. Between the irrepressible Amelia Lathrop, the unpretentious Violet Gardiner, and the clever Elizabeth Darcy, the naïve and shy Georgiana received a lesson in humor and scintillating repartee!

The party gathered together again in the music room where Col. Fitzwilliam was induced to accompany Georgiana with the cello. Darcy stood behind the seated Lizzy with his fingers lightly resting on her neck, unaware that Mr. Lathrop stood behind his wife in the identical inadvertent pose.

“Col. Fitzwilliam,” Lizzy declared, “you play beautifully! I am tremendously impressed.”

The Colonel bowed. “Thank you, Mrs. Darcy; you are very kind. I fear I am rather out of practice. The only opportunity I have to indulge my meager musical talent is here at Pemberley.”

“My husband claims to be as poor a proficient on the violin, yet now I begin to speculate he may not have been totally forthright. How would you evaluate his skills, Colonel, as one artist assessing the other?”

Richard smugly appraised his faintly frowning cousin. “Ah, Mrs. Darcy, you place before me an interesting dilemma. If I judge his talents paltry, then we shall all take pity and not wish to embarrass him by prevailing upon him to play, thus depriving us entertainment, but he shall thank me and be in my debt. If, however, I laud his gift, extolling the unsurpassed skill he wields, then all shall beseech him to grace us with a tune to our delight but I shall likely be soundly pummeled once alone.”

They all laughed. Mr. Lathrop chimed in with his soft voice, “I shall save you, Colonel. Darcy has not seen me for many months so would not likely horsewhip me.”

“Do not be too confident, Lathrop,” Darcy interrupted with a growl.

Undeterred, Mr. Lathrop continued with a grin, “Darcy often played at Cambridge and is quite good, although he abhors performing for crowds. Except for that one time, remember, Darcy?”

All eyes were on Darcy, brows raised in question. Richard stifled a chuckle and Mr. Lathrop was grinning broadly. “This is blackmail, old friend.” Darcy said, trying not to smile.

Mr. Lathrop spread his hands innocently, “Simply a reminder of what is possible with the appropriate… influences.”

“What manner of influences, Mr. Darcy, pray tell?” asked Mrs. Lathrop with a dimpled smile. All were staring at Darcy with varying degrees of humor with the exception of Georgiana who was frankly baffled.

Darcy cleared his throat. “Very well. Georgiana, play ‘Largo’ by Handel and then ‘Minuet in G’ by Bach.” Darcy took a moment to tune his instrument, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, and then indicated to his sister that he was prepared.

Lizzy waited with bated breath, anxious to hear her husband, yet feeling tremendous remorse that her thoughtless teasing may have led him to humiliate himself. She acutely recalled her own chagrin at having been coerced by Lady Catherine to display her weak pianoforte abilities. Darcy, however, was reticent by nature and therefore more apt to embarrass.

Upon the first strains, she knew her fears were groundless. Darcy was no virtuoso but he was talented, far surpassing what she had imagined based on his assertions. He and his sister played beautifully together and the entire room was spellbound.