Sharon Lathan - The Trouble with Mr. Darcy

Oddly enough, considering the mania they possessed for each other and the wild liberalness of their lovemaking, especially during the first year of their marriage, they had never made love on his desks. His Pemberley desk was simply too cluttered, the risk of serious wounding or impalement too great, so the numerous trysts occurring in that chamber were fulfilled in safer if equally atypical locations. This room was not inviolate, it being a good thing that walls cannot talk, but the desk had mysteriously remained undefiled.

Until now, and they would henceforth wonder why they waited so long! Of course, the fact that Darcy would forever have to tear his thoughts away from decadent memories to attend seriously to work may be one logical justification for avoiding the site. Another was the crumbled parchment pieces and spilled ink. But neither was enough to outweigh the indescribable ecstasy attained. Plus, the vision of his half-clothed wife lusciously splayed over his work surface, her face glistening with the radiance of sensual satiation and lush lips ruddy and swollen from his kisses was a picture he would never be regretful of holding.

“Lizzy, my beautiful Lizzy,” he whispered, lips grazing over the heated skin encasing her fluttering heart. “I do not know what impetus drove you here, into my arms, but I am grateful you did not resist the urge. I love you so!”

“I am not sure what impetus drove me either, William. All morning, even moments after rising from our bed and your arms, I wanted you again.”

His laugh was guttural and replete with satisfaction, teeth delightfully nipping along her collarbone. “Please do not expect me to express the slightest unhappiness in that information!”

“No, I would not anticipate your overwhelming remorse or displeasure. Nor am I in any way displeased. It is just… Ooh! Something is poking my side and my leg is getting a cramp.”

More laughter ensued, the aftermath of rising from the awkward position and adjusting clothing humorous. The poking quill was free of ink, Lizzy’s dress spared that stain although the wrinkles were another matter. They ended up sitting on Darcy’s chair with Lizzy nestled in his lap while he kneaded her thigh muscle free of residual spasms.

“There. Feeling better?”

“Much. The experience was worth any discomfort.” She nuzzled into his neck, hand snaking under his loosened shirt to the hot flesh underneath. “You are amazing, my husband. In every way knowing how to ease my pains. Such a superb deliverer of delights and gratification.” She kissed along his jaw to his ear with tongue feathering while her caressing hand grew bolder.

“My love? If you are attempting to re-seduce me I may be forced to disappoint. Even I have a limit to how rapidly I can recover, your obvious charms notwithstanding.” She did not reply, nor did she halt her pointed fondling. He chuckled, squirming and clasping her hand as he turned and captured her mouth in a firm kiss. “Goodness! I have not seen you so amorous since you were pregnant with Michael! Not that you are not generally more than capable of matching my ardor, but it has been a while since you accosted me in my study. And no, I am not complaining in the slightest.” He paused, noting the odd expression on her face. “Elizabeth?”

“What did you say about being amorous?”

“That I approve most highly. And if you insist I am positive we can repeat the performance later tonight.”

He kissed her cheek, but she pulled him away to look into his face. Her mien was one of blended surprise and elation. Darcy frowned.

“You may be right, William,” she whispered, and then shakily laughed. “I cannot believe it has not occurred to me!” She rose from his lap, pacing away a few feet while he watched her in perplexity. “Probably because I have not restarted my cycles so I had no gauge. But I have been sleepier than usual, my breasts have been aching”—she absently cupped her heavy breasts—“and for the past couple of weeks I have been mildly queasy, although I attributed that to traveling and not eating my usual diet. And I have been desiring you more than usual, not that I do not welcome the feeling, but still!”

“Stop!” He was on his feet, hands fisted at his sides. His face was as white as a sheet and his lips pressed so tightly together that small pressure wrinkles appeared. “Are you saying you think you may be… pregnant?” His voice was a bare whisper, cracking on the final word.

“I am not certain, of course, but it fits, and certainly is plausible considering us.” And she waved her hand between their two bodies. Her face was glowing with joy, eyes radiant and unfocused, and thus not noting his pained expression or tone of voice.

Darcy stared for another few moments and then released a coarse whine, pivoting and lurching to the window. His mumbling, angry words reached her ears, “Irresponsible idiot! You should have done something to prevent this happening so soon.”

“What are you saying, William? Prevent another child?” Her face was aghast, her eyes wide with astonishment. “Even if that were possible, why would you wish such a thing?”

“Is it not obvious, Elizabeth? After Michael, your illness, I…” He sighed in exasperation. “You have barely returned to a normal state, emotionally. It has only been a month since you quit drinking uncle’s teas! How could this happen so quickly?”

“Surely you do not need me to answer that question?” She snapped, her eyes afire with irritation.

“No, of course not. I did not mean…”

“Conception occurs when it occurs, Mr. Darcy. Look at Mary. Two babies in short succession. I doubt if Mr. Daniels expressed unhappiness!”

“It is hardly the same. You were so ill, Elizabeth. And we… our relationship suffered so dramatically. I could not bear to have that transpire again!”

His voice broke, the stricken cast to his mien penetrating Lizzy’s awareness. Her heart melted, although she remained somewhat annoyed. She crossed to where he stood ramrod tense by the window. She looked into his agonized eyes, reaching her hands to gently straighten his disarrayed clothing, injecting placating modulations as she spoke.

“Uncle George has assured us both, several times, that the likelihood of another such incident is slim now that we know what to watch for. He will be with me to assure I am well, and I shall not make the mistake of avoiding assistance. We have all learned to be cautious and diligent, my love. Furthermore, and most importantly, I have no intention of looking upon carrying our babies, as often as the Almighty chooses to gift us, as anything but the most miraculous of blessings. I do not believe that you feel any different.”

He stilled her hands, clasping them between his own and lifting to kiss her fingers. “I love you, Elizabeth, beyond words. And I love our children. And, yes, I do want more. In time. But I cannot pretend that the idea of you being pregnant, now, so soon, does not terrify me. I simply cannot embrace the joy of the idea at this juncture. Please forgive me, dearest, but I…” He swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment, and resumed in a husky whisper. “I cannot…”

A knock at the door arrested his words and any further discussion. Darcy reluctantly pulled away, tucking his shirt and fastening the buttons on his jacket. He cleared his throat, face assuming a neutral expression with only faint lines of stress marring the calm semblance.

“Yes?”

“Sir”—it was Mr. Travers, opening the door mere inches—“your horse is waiting.”

“Thank you. I shall be there momentarily.”

The door closed, leaving the lovers alone. Lizzy was staring at her husband, emotions in turmoil but understanding his angst. He pleaded silently, eyes melancholy, even as she forced a smile.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Lizzy interrupted. “Have a wonderful afternoon, dearest. We shall talk of this later.” She lifted on tiptoes to kiss his cheek and caress fingertips over his jaw. “All will be well, you shall see. I love you.”

Then she turned and left the room without a backward glance.

He left the house moments after she exited the parlor. Lizzy worried over his frame of mind disturbing his focus during the planned activities for his afternoon, but otherwise refused to dwell on the unknowns any further. If she was with child they would know soon enough, and she had no doubt that Darcy, once assured of her health, would be overjoyed. His all-consuming love and devotion to his family frequently stated desire for a bevy of children, and general good sense allayed any fears she had over his present trepidations.

Tea was taken on the Darcy House rear garden. The air was crisp with a slight chill but pleasant enough for an outside dining experience. The four women conversed and ate at the round table under the shaded patio while the four boys nibbled picnic-style on the open grass beside the fountain.

It was a quiet affair, despite Mrs. Smyth’s predictions. Ethan Bingley and Hugh Pomeroy were not as placid as Alexander, but they were well-behaved children able to pass a few hours in backyard play. Nine-year-old Harry spent part of the time chasing the younger boys around the grass and playing with the new bunny, and the other portion with his nose pressed into a book.

The ladies were content to gossip and laugh. Georgiana accidentally mentioned Mr. Butler at one point, Jane then being let in on the secret. After the expected congratulations and teasing, mostly from Lizzy, a goodly amount of time was spent on marital advice, leading to more laughter and blushes from the shy Georgiana.