CHAPTER 20
“We neither of us perform to strangers.”
They spent twenty minutes in complete silence; Elizabeth already missed the security of her family; Darcy searched for a way to allay her fears. Eventually, she did the characteristic shift of her shoulders, the one that told Darcy she was ready to meet the challenge of being his wife and the mistress of Pemberley. She turned to him and met his eyes. “Fitzwilliam, how large is Pemberley?”
The question stunned him, not expecting her to evaluate his land. He moved beside her on the coach’s bench.“Do you want an estimate or do you require the surveyor’s specifics?”
She waved her hand to let him know she had not worded the question well, and he should ignore the wording. “What I would like is to learn to ride a horse well. Could I have my own horse? I want to ride out with you; I do not want to be without you; may I have my own horse, Fitzwilliam?”
More vulnerable than he ever saw her, Darcy knew the horse symbolized her fear of being Pemberley’s mistress, but he did not say so. “It would give me pleasure to choose a horse for you. We have many already in the stables at Pemberley, but we may choose another if you find nothing you like.We will buy you appropriate riding clothes while in London. Do you know anything about how to ride?”
“I have ridden Papa’s horse, but not well, not like I want to ride. I want to be free to see all of Pemberley.”
“We will find you the right horse, Elizabeth.” He tapped her chin with his index finger, and she weakly smiled up at him.
“Elizabeth, we will be fine.You are one of the strongest people I know.”The tears started to flow, and he knew not what to do.“Elizabeth, please, I cannot bear to see you sad.”
After several loud sobs, she said,“I am not sad, Fitzwilliam; I am the happiest I have ever been in my life.”
“Then why are you crying?”
She snuggled into his chest. “I do not know why I am crying; you married a foolish woman.”
“Elizabeth, foolish or not, I love you with every ounce of my being.”
She looked up at the man she chose as her husband,“I love you, Fitzwilliam. I really love you.” His mouth smothered hers with a kiss long, hard, and passionate. The kiss threw a shadow over any preconceived ideas of love; they melted into each other; an astonishing amount of everything they ever knew disappeared in the new knowledge of each other.
Reluctantly, he stopped the kiss, but he did not release her from his embrace. “Elizabeth,” he could barely breathe, “I do not wish our first time to be in this coach, but I swear if you kiss me as such again, I will not guarantee my ability to resist you.”
“You can not resist my arts and allurements,” she traced his chin line with her fingers; then she giggled. “Lady Catherine warned you of my ability to trap you, Mr. Darcy, but you would not listen to her advice.” Elizabeth nibbled on his lips.
Darcy joined her tease; it was a way to still enjoy her closeness without abandoning social norms. “Although she is quite obstinate, my aunt is a wise woman.” Darcy pulled her closer and kissed the side of her neck, rubbing his lips against her skin.
His action had the desired effect.“Maybe we should . . . talk for a while,” she said, feeling a bit out of control herself. She sat up and looked lovingly in his eyes.
Darcy breathed deeply and resettled himself in the carriage, but he never let go of her hand. His fingertips massaged the lifeline leading along the palm of her hand.
“There is something I did want to discuss with you, Elizabeth.”
She caught a glimmer of seriousness in his tone and turned to receive his address.“I planned to discuss this later, but it will give you time to ask questions.Your father agreed to a jointure, a way Pemberley will remain with you if something should happen to me.”
“Fitzwilliam, please do not talk as such!”
“It is a fact, my Love; if nothing else, I am a practical man. I want to teach you all the aspects of the running of Pemberley. Many will not understand my doing so; it is not characteristic for a woman to assume such responsibilities. Besides you and Georgiana, there is nothing I love more than Pemberley. It must survive; if Pemberley lives, so does my family’s name.You must promise me you will help me save Pemberley.”
“Fitzwilliam, are we in a position where we could lose the estate?”
“No, not financially, but the times change. Men leave the land for the city every day. I need someone who shares my dream for Pemberley.That is one of the reasons I never chose to marry before now. I needed a mate whom I could trust with my family’s legacy.”
“I will do what you want, Fitzwilliam. People will simply have another reason to offer up censure on our behalf, but that will not change what we do for our family.You teach me, and I will share the knowledge with our children; Pemberley and you are my home now.”
He cupped her face in his hands.“I trust you with my heart, my soul, and my name.” His kiss this time held flashes of trepidation as well as hope. When she opened her eyes, he still cupped her face, and his forehead rested against hers. She reached up and took both of his hands in hers.“You have my heart,” she kissed his fingertips, “my soul,” she pulled his hands around her waist and moved in closer,“and I bear your name.” Elizabeth returned his last kiss with one full of her strength and her determination. Afterwards, she rested her head on his shoulder while he stroked the side of her face.They rode for nearly an hour in quiet contemplation of what their life together would bring.
The coach pulled up in front of his Kensington Place home. He alighted and then dismissed the footman with a wave of his hand. No one would assist his wife but himself. Elizabeth took his arm and looked up lovingly into his eyes.“Are you ready?” he whispered, and Elizabeth nodded her head in affirmation. They entered the house knowing their lives would never be the same after this evening.
The butler met them at the door.“Good evening, Mr. Darcy; it is good to see you safely at home, Sir.”
Handing the man his greatcoat, hat, and walking stick, Darcy turned to his servant.“Thank you, Mr.Thacker. It is good to be back at Kensington Place. Mr.Thacker, may I present my wife Elizabeth.”
“Mrs. Darcy, the staff extends its congratulations.Yours and Mr. Darcy’s happiness brings joy to us all.We wait on your desires.”
“Thank you, Mr.Thacker.” Elizabeth blushed with the realization the staff knew this was her wedding night.
“Your rooms are ready, Sir. I will have the trunks brought up.”
“Thank you, Mr. Thacker. We will have dinner in about an hour. I wish to show Mrs. Darcy around the house first.”
“Yes, Sir.” Mr.Thacker bowed and made his exit.
“Let me show you some of the downstairs rooms, Elizabeth, then we will freshen our clothes before dinner.”
Going down the hall, Elizabeth noted Darcy spoke to each of his servants, calling him by name. “Fitzwilliam, do you know all their names?” she whispered.
“Of course, most of the staff served my parents or are relatives of the staff members. They served the Darcys for many years; no one here served us less than five years.” Elizabeth never thought about how Darcy would treat his staff. She approved of his attitude; she would make an effort to learn the staff’s names too.
Darcy showed her several of the rooms; she found them to be more ornate than those she saw at Pemberley, but they each reflected his tastes for fine art, tapestries, and furnishings. In each room, Darcy brought her to the center and then stepped back to watch her reaction. Elizabeth acted like a small child moving away from a parent to try something new and then running back to the security of the parent’s arms. She would often lightly touch the statues and figurines or rub her fingertips across the tables; then she would giggle to herself and move quickly back into his embrace.
“Fitzwilliam, it is magnificent; I never imagined . . . I should have after being at Pemberley, but I did not expect such a home.” Her eyes sparkled with merriment.
“Then you approve of your London home, Mrs. Darcy?” he teased her innocence.
“Am I your source of entertainment, Mr. Darcy?” She stuck her lip out in a pretend pout.
Darcy lifted her chin and nibbled on the protruding lip. “Mrs. Darcy, you claim to love to laugh.”
“At other people’s expense, Sir,” she pretended offense, “not at my own.”
Darcy laughed.“Let us see some of the upstairs and then change for dinner.” He coaxed her toward the door.
She took his arm to ascend the staircase. “I have arranged for Margaret to attend you while we are here, but you may choose your own attendant once we return to Pemberley. I took the liberty of ordering additional items to be placed in your dressing room; I hope they meet your approval. We may have fittings for new clothes while in London if you like, Elizabeth.”
“Fitzwilliam, you do not need to buy me new things; I did not marry you for your money.” Elizabeth put her arms around his waist. “In fact, your money has not been of what I have been thinking today.” She tilted her chin up and looked in his eyes.
Darcy’s passion rose quickly whenever she was near him.“If not for my money, then why did you marry me, Elizabeth?”
“For your great wit, Mr. Darcy. I would not tolerate children of lesser intelligence.” Elizabeth turned from him to enter the dressing room door.“I will see you in a few minutes, Mr. Darcy.”
“I love you, Elizabeth,” he whispered.
“I love you, Fitzwilliam.”Then she was gone.
Darcy entered his own dressing room with images of Elizabeth playing with his senses.
The meal was delicious, but neither of them showed any interest in the food. They both picked at the offerings, and their eyes never strayed from each other. Eventually, without saying anything, he took her hand and led her to her dressing room again. Darcy lifted her chin and kissed her lips tenderly; then they parted.
Using the lavender oil she preferred for years, Elizabeth bathed slowly, tentative about what the next few hours would bring. Margaret helped her slip on her new nightgown and to brush out her hair. Earlier, when she freshened her clothing for dinner, she bubbled in conversation with the maid about the trip from Hertfordshire to London, but now she was silent, lost in thoughts of Darcy.
Like his wife, Darcy was more pensive than usual, but his calmness possessed an intensity he knew not before. Finishing his ablutions quickly, he entered Elizabeth’s bedroom to wait for her. He lit several candles and took a seat facing the door to her dressing room; yet, the door opened before he could settle his nerves completely, and Elizabeth was framed in the backlight of her dressing room. He remembered her being framed in the doorway at Netherfield with boots and her petticoat covered in mud. He actually thought her lovely then; now she was beautiful. With the light behind her, Darcy could see her lilt body through the gown. They looked at each other entranced by the moment until she stepped slowly into the room, and the door closed behind her. Darcy could not stand to not be near her; he rose and crossed to where she stood.
His touch of her skin sent a shiver through Elizabeth’s body; he cupped her chin as he lifted it to kiss her lips—the kiss warm and tender. She moved in closer encircling her arms around his waist, realizing she never saw him without his jacket, waistcoat, and boots, and then she instinctively slid her hands up under Darcy’s shirt and up the muscles of his back. He trembled as he kissed her again while slowly pulling her closer to him and letting his hands rest on her hips. Their breathing became shallow as the kisses became more intense.
Darcy scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her gently back against the pillows. She shifted nervously as his gaze grew in its eagerness. Darcy lowered himself beside her and kissed her repeatedly, his hands searching her body beneath her gown as his lips moved down her neck. Elizabeth reached out and pulled him to her; she was his at last.
Languishing in each other’s arms, Elizabeth snuggled into the curve of his shoulder and rested her arm across his chest. Darcy stroked her forearm with his hand and kissed the top of her head. “Elizabeth,” he began, but she reached up and placed her fingertips on his lips to stop his words.
“May I not be Lizzy again?” she teased.
Darcy laughed and pulled her closer to him. “Your name is Elizabeth Darcy, is it not?” He kissed her forehead as he hugged her tightly to him.
“I am Elizabeth Darcy, but your calling me Lizzy was very tantalizing.” She kissed him enticingly and stretched her leg across his body. “May I not convince you to call me Lizzy again?” Her hand slid across his chest and down his abdomen to his thigh.
“Lizzy,” he moaned in response to her touch; then he kissed her more impassioned than before.
This time they slept following their love, satisfied to be in each other’s arms. When Elizabeth awoke, she turned to find Darcy propped up on one arm and looking down at her. Realizing her gown had long since been discarded, she blushed and reached for the sheet. Darcy caught her hand and held it in place.“In this bed, you have nothing of which to be ashamed.”
“I am surprised to find you in my bed, Sir,” Elizabeth teased to cover the uneasy feeling his gaze created in her.“I thought society’s refined husbands returned to their own quarters after . . .”
“Some husbands feel the need for privacy.” His voice was soft and gentle, and he began to trace circles across her abdomen.“But I never want to leave your side, Elizabeth. Where you sleep, I sleep; this is our bed.” Her arms circled his neck, and she began to kiss along his chin line.“Shall I call you Lizzy again?” he teased.
“I hope to never be Elizabeth ever again.” She nibbled on his earlobe as he once again encircled her with his arms.
“I love you, Lizzy,” were the last words he got out before she covered his mouth with hers.
Daylight streamed through the windows when she woke him by rubbing her palm over the stubble of his beard. “Mr. Darcy, you are more handsome when you are not so properly dressed.” Her laughter started as a gurgle in the back of her throat.“Do you have any idea of the time?”
“Do you have a pressing engagement elsewhere?” He pulled her closer to kiss her tenderly.
“I was just considering my need for nourishment. If I am to spend the rest of my life in bed with you, Sir, I will need the occasional meal to maintain my strength.”
“So, you never want to leave our bed either?” A look of contentment overspread his face.
“Fitzwilliam, I want to be wherever you are, but this bed has a special appeal,” she taunted.
He moved casually from the bed to retrieve her gown. “I will have someone bring us something to eat and have the room freshened. Maybe you would like to find a robe to add to your wardrobe,” he handed her the gown.“I will get rid of this stubble.” He rubbed his chin across the back of her hand.
Unable to contain her smile, Elizabeth slipped on her gown and disappeared into her dressing room before he put on his trousers and pulled the bell cord for the servants.
Elizabeth, not used to having people wait on her every whim, looked surprised to see Margaret enter her dressing room, but then she realized Darcy summoned her.
“Mrs. Darcy, I am having bathwater brought up; I assume you would like a bath.”
Elizabeth knew her appearance must be an open book of her night with Darcy; she blushed at the thought, but she managed to say, “Thank you, Margaret, that would be nice.” She even offered the woman a hint of a smile.
Two younger maids entered with vases of yellow roses and put them on Elizabeth’s dressing table.“What are these, Margaret?”
“Mr. Darcy had them brought from Pemberley for you, Mrs. Darcy. He had them cut as buds, wrapped in newsprint, and kept damp until they got here so they would not go bad. They were supposed to be here yesterday, but the driver had trouble on the road. Mr. Darcy wanted them for your bedroom last night, Madam; I hope he is not upset.”
“It is fine, Margaret. I am sure Mr. Darcy did not notice.”
“You are right, Madam. With a wife as beautiful as you are, a man should not be looking at flowers. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Darcy, sometimes my mouth runs away from my good sense.” Elizabeth let the woman know she offered no offense, and then she blushed with a remembrance of Darcy’s passion last night.
Margaret moved a screen to block Elizabeth from the view of the servants carrying in the bathwater. Once they left, Elizabeth leisurely lay back in the warm water and let it seep around her body. Images of her husband played in her mind; she could not believe how easily she and Darcy became comfortable with each other; she knew she should not have looked on him or touched him as she did last night, but Darcy accepted her interest in his body—his pleasure as natural; it was liberating. Her mother would have been horrified; Mrs. Bennet, Charlotte, and Lydia painted pictures of what happened between a man and woman in the bedroom. Everything she ever gleaned about her “wifely duty” did not occur in her bedchamber last night. Darcy created a place where her desires often took precedence over his; images of the firmness of his shoulders and back and his arousal danced behind her closed eyes. When she finally got out of the tub, Margaret brought her a fresh gown, this one of white satin. “Another gift from Mr. Darcy, Madam.”
Elizabeth sat down at the dressing table; as she did at Pemberley she reached out gently to touch the petals of the roses. Margaret picked up the hairbrush to tend to Elizabeth’s hair when Darcy came up behind her.“I will do it, Margaret.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” She curtsied and left.
Elizabeth held one of the roses in her hand and took in its fragrance. She said nothing to him as he took the brush and gently swept her hair back from her neck. She watched his reflection as he caressed her neck, kissing the nape; she turned to face him, tears forming in her eyes. “Elizabeth, is there something wrong?”
“It grieves me I did not see the man you were before now,” she whispered.
“I am a different man because I met you, Elizabeth.”
“These flowers are from your mother’s plant, are they not?”
“The yellow represents the constancy of my love for you; each day the yellow sun rises in the sky is a day I will love you, Elizabeth.” He wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Are all women so emotional?” he teased.“You cry when you are happy and when you are sad.”
She gave him a hint of a smile before her arms encircled his neck tightly. “It is part of my arts and allurements,” she whispered in his ear.
“Let us go and eat what we have in our room so we can return to our bed,” he said softly into her hair for she still clung to him tightly. He picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom.
Darcy set her down in one of the chairs; she still clutched the rose in her hand; then he sat down across from her. She was so solemn it perplexed him as to what to do next. He took some of the fresh fruit on a fork and offered it to her. Elizabeth took it in her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. Once she swallowed, she turned to Darcy and said, “Fitzwilliam, I never want you to be sorry you married me. You gave me so much already; I have nothing to give you in return.”
“Elizabeth, give me your respect, help me maintain Pemberley, and love me as you did last night. No man could want for more.”
Although she still felt a bit inadequate to deserve such a man as Fitzwilliam Darcy, Elizabeth nodded her head, but she did not answer. Instead, she picked up the fork, took a piece of fruit on it, and placed it in Darcy’s mouth. It would all be good, she thought. I will prove myself worthy of his love.
Later, when they returned to the bed, Darcy laid back with the pillows propped behind him and Elizabeth’s head on his chest. “Poor Jane,” Elizabeth sighed.
“You are in our bed and thinking about your sister. I lost my appeal to you, I see.”
“On the contrary, Sir. I was just thinking Jane and Mr. Bingley are trying to be husband and wife in a house full of guests and my family three miles down the road. Jane deserves this kind of happiness; she and Mr. Bingley should be somewhere alone as we are.” She turned over and moved where she could reach his mouth. “Now, I am in need of a different kind of sustenance; one of your kisses would greatly restore my energies.” Darcy took her in his arms, letting the lavender overtake him.
For six days they sought no one else’s company but each other’s. Although they no longer took their meals in the bedroom, they spent the majority of their time there. Other times, they read together in the library taking turns reading to one another or just sitting close together as they read.“What are you doing, Elizabeth?” Darcy asked as she placed a book back onto the shelf in the library.
“I wanted to save the roses you gave me.” She seemed a bit embarrassed. “I put two of them in this book of poetry so they would be here each time we returned to Kensington Place. The others I dried to make a sachet.” She crossed the room to where he sat and leaned down to kiss his lips. “Constancy in love must be preserved,” she teased as he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her again.
On other days, Elizabeth played the pianoforte, and Darcy turned the music for her; she even rewarded him by singing for him one evening. He thought to try to teach her billiards, but whenever he encircled her body with his arms to show her how to hold the stick correctly, she always turned to kiss him, and the game was lost to their passion.They were never more than a few feet apart. Darcy often came to her dressing room to just be with her while she bathed or to brush her hair. For a love, which took so long to find, they wasted no time in building a bond no one could destroy.
After a week, they decided a walk through the park would do them well as both were of a nature to spend time out of doors no matter what the weather. With Elizabeth on his arm, Darcy felt he saw London for its beauty for the first time. They walked along busy streets, but they saw no one. Reaching Hyde Park, they chose one of the lesser-traveled paths, enjoying the company of no one else. When they emerged from the secluded path to the main one leading through the park, Darcy stopped short hearing someone call his name. “Darcy, is that you my boy?”
“Your Lordship!” Surprise reflected in his voice while Darcy made his bow.
“It is you, Darcy. It is good to see you.”
“If I knew you were in London, Sir, I would have left my card.”
“Nonsense, do not fret so, my boy. Is this your new bride?”The man looked closely at Elizabeth.
“My apologies, Sir. Lord and Lady Pennington, may I present my wife Elizabeth?” Elizabeth made her curtsy to Darcy’s companions. “Elizabeth, Lady Pennington is my mother’s cousin.”
“I am honored to meet you both,” Elizabeth dropped her eyes.
Lady Pennington reached out and touched the side of Elizabeth’s face. “Fitzwilliam, she does not appear to be a witch with magical powers,” her ladyship smirked.
“I see you heard from Lady Catherine,” Darcy added as he pulled Elizabeth closer.
“Do not go on so, Fitzwilliam; no one pays Lady Catherine much attention in such matters. Her strict nature makes her opinions less than appealing,” Lady Pennington assured him. “We received news of Anne’s and Edward’s engagement two days ago. Lady Catherine was kind enough to add her note to the announcement.”
“I am glad to hear Edward won Anne’s heart; I hope they will be happy.” Darcy’s affection for his cousins genuinely showed.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Lady Pennington turned to Elizabeth, “would you two care to join us for some tea?”
Elizabeth looked up to Darcy before she answered,“We would be pleased to join you, Lady Pennington.”
They found a confectionery shop, which also served tea, and took a table.The conversation happened naturally although Elizabeth consciously controlled her tendency to be too mirthful. Darcy and Lord Pennington discussed the current political scene while Lady Pennington pumped Elizabeth for details of the wedding.“A double wedding with your elder sister—how delightful! Is Mr. Bingley that amiable young man you brought with you to the earl’s birthday celebration, Fitzwilliam?”
“He is, your Ladyship.”
“Is that not romantic? Sisters married best friends.”
Darcy and Elizabeth smiled at her words of approval. A sudden thought hit Lady Pennington. “Fitzwilliam, please tell me you gave Mrs. Darcy your mother’s necklace for her wedding.That was one of the last things she said to me before she passed.”
“I did, your Ladyship.”
“Good . . . . It was important to her; it was her request for your wife to have it. She always said the green reminded her of Pemberley in the summer and the white, it in winter.Together the jewels were a history of Pemberley worn about her neck.Were they not beautiful, Mrs. Darcy?”
“The necklace was a splendid gift from my husband, but your story made it priceless. Thank you for sharing it with me, Lady Pennington.”
“Of course, my dear.” She reached out and patted Elizabeth’s hand, then she stood to take her leave having finished her tea.“This place was adequate, but I cannot say I enjoyed it as much as Gunter’s on the east side of Berkeley Square.You must have Fitzwilliam take you there in the spring, Mrs. Darcy—just drive up in an open carriage, and the waiters will bring out the finest teas, sorbets, and ices. I adore the burnt filbert cream ice.” Then she turned to Darcy. “Fitzwilliam, you chose well; your mother would be happy with your choice. It will give me great pleasure to let the rest of the family know your wife is exactly what you need, and Lady Catherine is a bitter old woman.When you are ready to rejoin society, you will come to stay with his lordship and me.You will bring Georgiana too; it has been too long since we saw her.”
“We will do so as soon as possible, your Ladyship.” Having made his promise, he bowed; taking Elizabeth’s hand in his, he repeated his thanks; he knew any censure from his family for marrying Elizabeth was solved. Lady Pennington’s opinion in the family easily outweighed anything Lady Catherine could offer.
Although it was the middle of the afternoon, Darcy and Elizabeth lounged lazily across the counterpane on the bed. Exhausted, Darcy lay back with his arm across his eyes; Elizabeth lightly kissed the upper part of his arm not because she wanted him again, but her new husband still fascinated her, and she needed to touch him when he was near.
They spent several hours the last couple of days going over the books of expenses for Pemberley and their other holdings. Once she agreed with Darcy to learn about how to run the estate, she took to the information with a desire to please him. How quickly she grasped the basic information surprised Darcy. There was still much for her to learn, but his plan brought satisfaction. Elizabeth’s security and the future for their heirs depended on her understanding about their various holdings. Most gentlemen would never consider sharing such information with their wives; it was not in their domain, but Darcy knew having Elizabeth as his partner, and not his dependent, would offer his family security in these uncertain times. Her strength of character would be an asset for their future success. Lost in his thoughts, he did not expect her to slide her arm across his chest and bring his attention to the present moment rather than future plans. He reached out and encircled her in his arms, turning on his side to enclose her in his embrace. “Fitzwilliam,” she giggled lightly, “would you buy me a gun? I would like to learn to shoot.”
This was clearly not the conversation he expected in the middle of a tender moment. “Dare I ask what brought on this request? Does my embrace drive you to violence?”
Elizabeth started to laugh, and she began to kiss his chest and move up his neck. “You, Sir, create a strong emotional response in me, but I would not call it violence.”
He could barely remember her request by the time her kisses reached and consumed his mouth. “Then why do you need a gun?” He finally got the words out.
Elizabeth continued to kiss his face, but she managed to answer, “I told Lydia I would shoot Mr. Wickham if he ever showed his face at Pemberley. I would like to keep my word.”
Darcy took both hands and pulled her head back where he could see her expression to see if she teased him.“You are serious, Elizabeth? What brought this on?”
“You know me, Love. My mind jumps about uncontrolled. Mr. Wickham’s expenses were in the ledger today; it reminded me of my confrontation with Lydia.”
“What confrontation?”
“It was after Mr. Wickham’s congratulatory letter. I warned Lydia I would not tolerate her being a part of any plan Mr. Wickham may have. I told her if he ever tried to come to Pemberley, I would see him shot as a trespasser.”
Darcy could not control his laughter. “Elizabeth, you are amazing! I can think of no other woman who would speak as such. Although I would not wish you to experience death, a woman should be able to defend herself,” he reasoned.“I know the perfect gun for a woman such as you are. I married a woman who would shock the world if they knew.”
She began to kiss his face again. “You are right, Mr. Darcy, you married a shameless woman. I desire your constant attention; I desire a secure future for our children; I will let no one hurt you. I am afraid you chose poorly; I possess too much gall and not enough sugar.Are you sorry for your lack of foresight?”
He kissed her deeply before answering. “Lizzy, I need no one in my life but you. In hindsight, I am blessed to have such an amazing woman in love with me. My only regret is I denied my love for you to myself and others so long.”
“You are forgiven, Mr. Darcy.” She kissed him lightly. “However, forgiveness has its price.”
“What payment shall you demand as penance, Lizzy?”
She ran her hand up his body, sending shivers of pleasure through him. “I have but one true vice, Fitzwilliam—you.” Their love was all-consuming; the world could choose to judge; but they were secure in each other, and such judgments were of little consequence.
