Darcy Saga 01 Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy (20 page)

Two days later Lizzy was awoken by the sensation of something velvety with a lovely aroma brushing across her face. She opened her eyes to see her husband's handsome face hovering over her. His jubilantly dimpled smile, sparkling blue eyes, and disheveled hair were enough to instantly set her heart racing. It took her a moment to realize that he held a pink rose in his hands and it was this with which he was gently tickling her face.

"Happy anniversary, my precious wife," he declared in his rich, musical voice. "Elizabeth my love... my light... my heart... my pearl... my lover... my Lizzy." He unceasingly grazed her face, neck, and shoulders with the rose, sprinkling kisses between his endearments. "One week ago today, you made me the happiest of men, Mrs. Darcy, my beloved." He kissed her deeply then, pulling her body onto his, caressing her back with his hand and the flower.

"My husband, I note you are wearing your trousers. Under the present circumstances, is this not a ludicrous encumbrance?" she tantalized, planting nibbles to his neck.

"Nothing that cannot be easily rectified, my love." He laughed. "I did not think it wise of me to traipse to the conservatory unclothed. The staff has been shocked enough lately at my lack of modesty and propriety."

"You went to the conservatory this morning?" she asked with slight alarm. "I needed to pick this for you," he touched her adorable nose with the rose, "and those as well." He waved his hand about the room and the five vases of varied flowers scattered about the chamber.

Lizzy sat up in bed, unconscious of the heavenly sight she presented to her husband, and smiled radiantly at the array of blooms. She turned her smile onto Darcy, devastating him further with love and desire, and teased, "You are doing it again, Mr. Darcy. Being entirely too fabulous, spoiling me beyond endurance, and setting the standard so high that you may exhaust yourself in an effort to reach higher than the previous pinnacle!"

He rose and kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Let me worry about that," he responded, and then left the bed before her beguiling charms drove further thought away. He returned from his dressing room swiftly with an enormous box, which he placed on the bed in front of her.

"William, you must cease buying me gifts! I do not require such gestures.

" "Whether you require them or not is irrelevant, Mrs. Darcy. I will shower you with presents because I am entirely egocentric and I extract pleasure from admiring your happy face! Humor me, if nothing else."

She pretended a scowl, but could not maintain it for long. She opened the box and gasped in shock. She pulled out an ankle-length pelisse of russet wool, lined and edged with sable. It was by far the most exquisite garment she had ever owned. With a squeal of glee, she robustly hugged her husband and then stood up on the bed, wrapping herself in the lush softness of the coat. The luxuriant contact of the fur on her bare skin was positively vivifying. She pranced seductively about the bed, making Darcy smile and laugh aloud.

"You see," he gushed, "the pleasure is wholly mine. I am selfishly overcome with joy." He clutched her legs and drew her onto his lap. "Now let me see what other self-serving indulgences I can secure."

Just prior to noon, Lizzy sat in Darcy's study while he worked at his desk. She pretended to read a book, but was more fascinated with inspecting her husband. A small crease sat between his brows as he concentrated. He rolled the quill in his fingers and rubbed his chin when ruminating. Occasionally his lips would silently mouth the words on the document before him. Frequently he would sigh or harrumph or aah or curse or grumble, without being aware he did so. Lizzy adored simply observing him, learning more about him in these unconscious mannerisms.

A knock at the door led to the entrance of Mr. Keith, who requested a moment of Mr. Darcy's time. With alacrity, and a thankful nod to Mr. Keith, Lizzy rose and left the two gentlemen alone. Mrs. Reynolds stood outside the door. "Is everything ready?" Lizzy asked.

"As you requested, Mrs. Darcy."

"Thank you!" and with a brief squeeze to Mrs. Reynolds' hands, Lizzy flew up to her dressing room where Marguerite was waiting.

About forty-five minutes later, Mr. Darcy emerged from his study, asked a footman where Mrs. Darcy could be found, and was told that she was in the conservatory. Darcy walked speedily, already lamenting the absence of his wife. He called to her when he entered, and her voice came from the far side of the room. He made his way around the profusion of potted plants and trees. The tableau before him stopped him dead in his tracks.

A clearing had been made and a luncheon was arranged as if outdoors, hamper and all. Elizabeth stood, wearing her lightest muslin summer gown with only a thin chemise underneath and satin lawn slippers. Her hair was down, with the side strands twisted into an elaborate braid in back. The warmth of the conservatory, the aroma of the blooms, the sunlight shining through the ceiling and walls of glass, along with the blanket on the floor, created the perfect summer scenario.

"Happy anniversary, Fitzwilliam!" Lizzy approached her stunned husband and without preamble began unbuttoning his coat. "I know it is a poor substitute for your grotto, so we must pretend." She laid his coat aside and then kissed him. "I could not forget the day you made me the happiest woman in the world, my love. One whole week you have tolerated me! You have earned a medal, but instead you will get only lunch. Now sit. I shall serve our food."

Lizzy also had a gift for her husband. "It is rather silly," she blushingly remarked when she handed him the small box. "I did not have the foresight to buy a real gift for you. Instead I recalled an inane French novel I read when I was a girl, a poorly written romantic piece of tripe. There was this one thing I thought sweet, in my girlish idea of romance."

Darcy opened the box and saw a small satin pouch with a drawstring closure. "Look inside," Lizzy said, biting her lip in nervousness. He pulled out a long slender tress of her silky hair that had been braided and tied on each end with fine thread. "You see," she explained, "now you will permanently have a small part of me with you even if I am not there."

He stared at her in unbelief. "You thought this was silly? This is... astounding! Elizabeth, I do not have the words!" He kissed her tenderly and held her chin with his fingers. "My love, I resort to buying gifts because it is what I am accustomed to. You look inward to your heart and give far more generously than I. I will cherish this and bear it with me for all my life. I so love you, Elizabeth."

It was a lovely afternoon. There is something mysterious about picnics-- even indoor ones--that immediately causes one to feel mellow and whimsical. One week of wedded bliss, and they both already had scores of memories to record into their journals, not that either of them would ever forget the passion and joy of these first days.

CHAPTER NINE

Shopping!

M
ONDAY ARRIVED AND LIZZY
was slightly ashamed, but she could not deny her excitement. Never in her entire life had she been able to shop without worry for the cost. She still was not sure she could manage it, but she intended to try. Darcy seemed as eager as she was. She had learned early in their engagement that he adored buying gifts for those he loved--for her, of course, but also for Georgiana and even his cousin Richard or Bingley. He was almost absentminded about it, simply seeing something that he knew they would enjoy and purchasing it on the spot. It was endearing.

Although she felt somewhat like a child let loose in a candy store, she understood that her excursion today was necessary. Each day, as she wandered about Pemberley, the awareness of her new station in life became increasingly apparent. If for no other reason than to make her husband proud that he had married a simple country girl, she would present herself as exactly what society demanded from the Mistress of Pemberley.

She wore her new pelisse over her gown, feeling more regal than she ever had. She tucked a wad of her pin money into her reticule, just in case, and met her smiling husband in the foyer.

First they had luncheon at the Carriage Inn, one of Lambton's oldest and most prominent establishments. Lizzy blushed initially at the number of stares her appearance on the arm of Mr. Darcy engendered, but his air of indifference and obvious pride at her gracing his side calmed her. She was introduced to several people, all of whom had heard of Mr. Darcy's marriage. "Word travels quickly in these small communities, as you well know, Elizabeth," he whispered.

After luncheon Darcy and Lizzy walked to Madame du Loire's salon. Along the way they encountered a distinguished older gentleman who approached the Darcys with a broad grin.

"Why, Mr. Darcy! How fortunate I am to meet you so unexpectedly. This must be the Mrs. Darcy we are all hearing about." He bowed deeply to Lizzy. He had a very open face and Lizzy found herself liking him immediately.

"Mr. Vernor," Darcy replied with a happy smile, "you are correct. This is my wife, Mrs. Darcy. Mrs. Darcy, may I introduce you to our closest neighbor, Mr. Henry Vernor of Sanburl Hall."

Lizzy curtseyed. "Mr. Vernor, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." "Thank you, Mrs. Darcy, however, I must insist that the pleasure is entirely mine. I am certain that Mr. Darcy has warned you that the rumors of your grace and beauty have preceded your entry into our little community. Now I shall be able to brag to all that I beheld you first and can glowingly proclaim that the rumors pale in comparison to the reality that was before me."

Lizzy was a bit shocked at Mr. Vernor's ebullient charm and assumed Darcy would be miffed, so she was further surprised to hear him laugh boomingly. "It sunders my heart to disappoint you, my old friend, but we have just come from the Carriage Inn and I was honored to introduce my lovely wife to a number of the denizens of Lambton. Tell me, Vernor, how much have you scoundrels wagered on who would espy my wife first?"

Mr. Vernor feigned indignation, "Darcy, you wound me, sir! A true gentleman would never wager on such a thing." His words, however, were denied by the wink he gave to Lizzy and by Darcy's continued laughter.

Darcy turned to his wife, who was beginning to find the entire encounter extremely amusing. "You see, my love, Lambton offers little in the ways of diversion so the
gentlemen
frequently resort to petty indulgences to offset the boredom. I know for a fact that there has been a long standing wager as to when I would enter the esteemed state of matrimony and to which society lady it would be. How did those bets turn out, Vernor? Any luck, my friend?"

Vernor assumed a visage of tremendous mourning. "Mr. Creswell won on the age. There was some debate since you were eight and twenty when you became betrothed, but the wager was for age at marriage, so Creswell edged out Sir Cole. Sadly for us all, although undoubtedly happily and wisely for you and Mrs. Darcy," he bowed again to Lizzy, "you ventured outside London society, a move none of us anticipated."

Lizzy laughed, "I do not believe my husband anticipated it either, Mr. Vernor. His chagrin was tremendous, let me assure you." With a twinkle she glanced at her husband. "He fought valiantly against it, but in the end we ladies usually achieve what we want, is that not true, Mr. Vernor?"

"Most definitely, Mrs. Darcy. When it comes to matters of the heart, the fairer sex has the distinct advantage."

"My wife is far too generous, Vernor. She led me on a merry chase in which I was all too delighted to engage." He briefly kissed Elizabeth's hand, saying, "The prize was well worth the effort." Darcy was beaming and Vernor could not mistake the looks shared with his wife as anything other than the deepest love. Vernor had been a great friend to Darcy's father, and his son, Gerald, had been a childhood playmate of Darcy's and was one of his dearest friends still. The families were close so it warmed Vernor's heart to see the young man finally so happy.

Darcy turned his attention back to Vernor and clapped him on the shoulder. "It brings joy to my heart to know I have disrupted the gaming. By the way, where are you heading? Will you take a glass of wine with me?"