Lizzy had a delightful afternoon, tremendously entertained with titillating discourse, delicious snacks, and several games of whist. She returned to their chambers well after Darcy, who was already bathed and dressing for dinner. Not surprisingly, he had communicated sparingly with his fellow swimmers, learned only four names that he could effortlessly recall, and received no invitations to dine. He shrugged his shoulders, utterly apathetic to the lack of society, but more than willing to join a group table if it pleased his wife.

For their second night Darcy relented and they dined with a group of fellow visitors. He quashed with some difficulty the surge of possessiveness that reared, recognizing his wife's natural gregariousness that allowed her to make friends so easily and thrill in casual socializing. They dined in one of the larger dining chambers, elegantly furnished and softly illuminated by flickering candle chandeliers. Wide windows offered a view of the northern wood illuminated faintly by the moon. They were joined by Lady Eloise Underwood; the widowed Mrs. Alcastor and her companion Miss Stein; the Henner family, consisting of a husband and wife and two teenaged daughters; and Lord and Lady Stewart, a middle-aged couple with three children who were safely at home in Kent. Darcy was by far the most taciturn member of the assembly, although Lord Stewart was nearly as silent. The two men eventually discovered an equal passion for horses, a topic that would carry them through the evening.

The after-dinner recreation, aside from the usual games of cards, chess, and backgammon, was a silhouette party. Lizzy had read of the art form but never beheld the process. The fad of tracing silhouettes, or shades, began in France in the mid-1700s and was popularized by King George III with “shade parties” a favored amusement amongst the royal elite. The artist employed for the next three nights at the Caister Seaside Resort was a German who lived in Norwich and traveled up and down the coastal towns plying his talent.

Lizzy was thrilled by the idea of obtaining a tracing of her husband's profile and Darcy enchanted with having one of her, so they both consented to sit for the artist and purchase the portrait. Artists employed differing techniques and materials, but all focused on the profile. The concept was simple: A bright lantern was positioned near the subject's face, casting a shadow onto a white paper screen. The shade was then traced, to be later cut by hand onto black parchment or fabric, craftily embellished with slashed cuts for collars or jewels or other details, mounted onto a white background, and then framed.

The evening's diversion was tremendous fun, the German droll and cheerful as well as a gifted artisan. Darcy and Lizzy decided to place their shapes facing each other on the same picture, lightly bronzed and elaborately framed. It was a fine piece of art that would hang in their sitting room as a remembrance of this holiday for the whole of their lives.

It was late when they crawled into their bed, Lizzy already drifting into slumber when her warm-bodied spouse nestled against her back. He drew her close, wrapping limbs about her and kissing a bare shoulder.

“Good night, my heart,” she whispered sleepily, twining her fingers between the longer ones lying on her belly. “Sleep well. I love you.”

“I love you, Elizabeth,” he answered with a gigantic yawn, kissing her ear and promptly falling asleep. Thus ended their first full day by the sea: sleeping deeply with cooling breezes and the muted sounds of crashing waves entering the half-open window.

“Here you are, Elizabeth.”

“Thank you, dearest.” Lizzy smiled into her husband's eyes as she reached to take the tall glass of mixed fruit juice from his hand. “What do you have there?”

He placed the small linen-wrapped basket he held in his hand, the subject of her query, onto the little table between their chairs. Responding as he reclaimed his seat, “I thought while I was retrieving beverages for us I would also snare a snack. Completely selfish on my part as I did not wish to trudge up to the inn thirty minutes from now when you suddenly realized you have not eaten in two hours.” He grinned while Lizzy rolled her eyes.

“Walking some hundred feet hardly qualifies as trudging, Mr. Darcy, and my increased appetite is all your doing, as we have established.”

“As you wish, Elizabeth. I brought those pecan scones you like so much, some raspberries, and two bananas.” He picked up his book, stretching long legs onto the lounger with a contented sigh.

It was their third day at the resort and thus far they had traveled no farther than the beach, pier, and pathways through the wood. Darcy had a whole list of local entertainments, most of which they did wish to visit, but the delight of leisurely hours staring at the waves and swimming was currently taking precedence. Both days they had risen later than usual, foregoing any bedroom activities to join the other guests for a lingering breakfast as the nightly mist departed. They had missed the sunrises, one of the items on Darcy's list, but the play of morning sunlight on the water and thinning fog was an enchanting backdrop while dining.

At some point in the day they utilized the bathing machine for an hour or two. Darcy did teach his wife to swim, the only stroke she was moderately proficient at being the backstroke. Modesty and safety prevented him steering her too far from the machine, even though they were well away from any potential prying eyes. Lizzy enjoyed the lessons and not merely because Darcy was the teacher. The water was colder then she would have preferred, but bracing and revitalizing nonetheless. Mostly it was the sense of balance and gracefulness she felt in the water that was appealing. Of course, they did manage to waste a great deal of time in horseplay with splashing, diving for rocks, tickling, and dunking. Inevitably the session ended with exquisite lovemaking.

Now they sat on padded, wooden lounge chairs located on the sand. An umbrella shaded them from the harsh sun. This area of the beach, the southern edge of the private expanse nearest the pier, was well away from the bathing machines situated to the left by the rocks. Numerous chairs and umbrellas were set to accommodate the guests. Several children frolicked in the surf, their squeals of glee mingling with seagull squawks and crashing waves. It was wholly relaxing, peaceful, and refreshing. The days were comfortably warm with the oppressive heat of Derbyshire left far behind; cooling, gentle breezes replete with the tang of salt and fish flowed intermittently.

Lizzy sipped her drink and nibbled on a scone while applying the finishing touches on a gown for their baby. Darcy read, naturally, Montesquieu having been completed so now he was studying the dry textbook on marine wildlife and vegetation with intent interest.

“Look here, love.” He spoke into the silence, holding the page up for her inspection. “A drawing of those birds we saw yesterday by the rocks. An Arctic tern. I thought it was in the tern family, but the markings were different. They are indigenous to the polar regions, not seen frequently this far south. Listen to this: they migrate year-round from the Arctic to the Antarctic, making them one of the farthest traveling bird species known. They seek the summers in both places, rarely in their lifetime experiencing night. How fascinating!”

Lizzy smiled, displaying the appropriate amount of interest before resuming her own task. It was not that she found learning the names and habits of God's creatures unworthy, but her thirst for absorbing all knowledge to the tiniest degree was not as unquenchable as it was for Darcy. She was frankly flabbergasted that he could attend to the thick manual page after page as if riveting literature. What was even more astounding is that she knew he would assimilate and regurgitate eighty percent of what he read fifty years hence, his memory phenomenal.

The Henners wandered by, the thirteen- and fifteen-year-old daughters shyly glancing at Darcy, who was oblivious. “Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy,” Mr. Henner greeted with a bow, Mrs. Henner dropping a curtsey and softly greeting. “I pray your afternoon is progressing delightfully?”

“Very much, Mr. Henner. Thank you. Are you leaving the beach?”

Mr. Henner nodded. “The ladies are gathering for a swim. The menfolk will be meeting for faro in the game room. Will you be participating, Mr. Darcy?”

Lizzy stifled a laugh as a cough, Darcy ignoring her as he replied, “Thank you, but no. I will be bathing later, however. See you then, Mr. Henner?”

“Absolutely! Enjoy the sea air, Mrs. Darcy.” They left, the girls giggling and whispering.