Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (119 page)

“It does, I agree.  She is becoming stronger and softer as she and Albert become closer, but her husband, while much improved, is not well.  If he becomes the earl, he will likely not sire an heir.  It is in Richard and Sophie’s hands.”

“Oh my.  I had no idea.” 

“I do not think it is probably that great of a secret to anyone who knows them or the viscount’s behaviour before he married.  Of course, we all hope for the opposite to be true.”  Elizabeth sighed.  “Especially Richard and Sophie.”

“So . . . The Matlocks wanted Lady Cathy to marry Fitzwilliam so that they might keep her dowry . . . and . . . sell some of Pemberley to pay their debts.” Elizabeth nodded.  “Lady Catherine wished for Fitzwilliam to marry Lady Gladney because . . . it would complete her dream of uniting her sister’s child with hers and it would save Rosings for the Fitzwilliam family.” 

“Yes, and create a greater estate, being Rosings and Pemberley, which is why Colonel Fitzwilliam, as a mere second son, was deemed unsuitable to accomplish the task, even though in the end, he is the one who will save Matlock with his son.” 

“And . . . what else is there?  Miss Darcy disliked you, but she seems to cling to you now.  Did you speak to her, she was anxious to see you before?

“I will talk to her after I have had a moment to rest.”  Elizabeth closed her eyes. 

“What is wrong?” 

“Nothing that time will not heal.  A great deal of time.  And a great deal of . . .”  Her voice drifted away as she became lost in thought about her sister’s fears.  

“Oh Lizzy, please, there are not more troubles for you and Fitzwilliam?” 

She opened her eyes.  “No, of course not.  Now tell me about you and Charles.  I noticed the two of you walking in the garden yesterday.  Did he take you behind the rose arbour?  I can tell you many more lovely places to guide him if you would care for some privacy.  And if you are willing to ride, well . . .” She grinned.  “And then there is the swimming, although the lake is cooling now that autumn is nearly here.”

“Lizzy!”

“You asked me for advice, Jane.  What is your relationship with him?”  Elizabeth sat up again and took her hands.  “Do you share his bed every night?” 

“No . . . Just when he comes to me.”  She hung her head.  “I am afraid that . . . I took Mama’s advice too strongly.  She told me to . . . lie still for him.” 

“Oh, Jane.”

“And it has been so long that I . . . I do not know another way.  Even now when I want to . . .” She looked up with tears in her eyes.  “I see how much Fitzwilliam loves you, and oh, I wish for it so much.  But I become so embarrassed and so afraid that Charles will think less of me if I behave as a wanton.”

“A wanton?  Jane you are married to the man!  You are free to be as wanton with him as you wish!”  Elizabeth squeezed her hands.  “He liked that about you!  When you went to find him in London?  That was the moment he decided to marry you!”

“But . . . so much has happened since then.  Papa’s dying, the mourning . . . it just . . . everything just stopped.”  She closed her eyes.  “I stopped it.  And now I do not know what to do.”  She looked up at Elizabeth pleadingly, “What do I do?”

“Surely Charles has full knowledge of how to encourage you?  I cannot believe that he is so modest when alone with you; after all he surely is not without experience.  Did Charles try to . . . teach you, but you simply did not respond?  And he became discouraged?”  She looked at her nodding sister.  “Well it is time to do something about that.  You have been married too long to let this state of affairs continue.  He wants to love you as much as my Will loves me.” 

“What should I do?”

“Oh, Jane . . . I cannot tell you how to love Charles, you and he are so different from me and Will.”  She crossed her arms and bit her lip, feeling terrible for the helplessness she saw, and wanting to help her so much.  “All right then,” Jane looked up.  “I think that you two would benefit from something Fitzwilliam and I did during the long wait before we finally . . .” She stopped and carefully sought her words.  “Because Fitzwilliam and I . . . came together so suddenly, we . . . took our time knowing each other before . . .” She paused and looked at Jane meaningfully.  Jane gasped and Elizabeth nodded.  “So.  We spent an inordinate amount of time kissing.”  Her cheeks coloured as she imagined Darcy’s head bobbing as he grinned in delighted agreement.  “And I must tell you, Jane, there is
nothing
so delicious as kissing the man you adore until your mouths are swollen and your jaws ache, and then kissing him some more.”

“Lizzy!”

“Jane!  Have you never spent an afternoon curled in Charles’s arms?  Kissing and teasing him?”

“You have always been so much more open than I.”

“This is how I learned, Jane.”  Elizabeth sat back and smiled.  “We became comfortable with each other and then everything else followed naturally after that.  It was not in the least surprising when he touched me in the most intimate manner.  And I wanted it then, I wanted his touches, and more than anything, I wanted to touch him,
everywhere
.”  She nodded knowingly and looked around the bedchamber.  “We are talking in here because . . . the bed I share with Fitzwilliam is for us alone.  I could not allow you to sit there with me.” 

“I want to be that way with Charles.”  Jane looked towards the open door to the master’s chambers.

“Tonight, before the ball, when you are both dressed in your finest and he looks at you . . . the way that you
know
he will look at you . . .” Elizabeth raised her brows and nodded. “Kiss him.  Not a peck, but kiss him.  Leave him wanting you all night, and then when you finally retire, just relax and follow his lead.”

“You make it sound so easy.” 

“That is because it is.”  She took her hand.  “Do not think, just feel.” 

“You never did listen in church.  No wonder Reverend Pierson was always after you to learn your lessons.”  Jane smiled at last and Elizabeth laughed.  “I should let you rest, and I have much to consider.”  Jane climbed down from the bed.  “I have missed this so much.  I hope that . . . you and I can be friends again?” 

“We never stopped, Jane.” 

“I saw how you are with Mrs. Fitzwilliam and I . . .” She clasped her hands before her.  “I was jealous.” 

“Do not be.  She is my sister and my friend, too.”  Cocking her head, she smiled.  “Should I be jealous of your relationship with Miss Bingley?”  Jane rolled her eyes and Elizabeth laughed.  “I did not think so.” 

“Thank you, Lizzy.”  Jane smiled and opening the door, slipped out into the hallway. 

Elizabeth watched it close and looked towards the sitting room and debated how she would tease her husband before the ball, then smiling, she lay down and hugged her pillow.  “I will wait and see what you do, Mr. Darcy.” 

DARCY RETURNED HOME with the other men pleasantly tired, hungry, and not a little nervous with anticipation for the night to come.  The exercise had been the perfect distraction, but he was anxious now for the event to at last begin.  Pleased to learn that Elizabeth was actually resting and seeing that it was not in their bed, he peeked into the rarely used mistress’s chambers and spied her lying beneath a blanket, fast asleep. 
Safe and warm.
  A feeling of satisfaction and pride filled his breast as he remembered his promise to her when he proposed. 
Trust me and I will keep you safe and warm.  What a bargain I struck that day!  The greatest of my life, I am certain, never ever to be matched again.
  Darcy tenderly brushed her unbound hair away from her face, and kissed her soft cheek before taking his leave to prepare for the night.

It was nearly an hour later when rubbing a towel over his freshly washed hair and clad in nothing but his drawers and a loose shirt, Darcy walked through his chambers to see if she had begun to dress.  He passed through their sitting room and came to a dead stop at the door.  “Lord, help me.” 

Elizabeth lay curled around a pillow in a patch of golden light from the setting sun.  She had thrown off the blanket, revealing to Darcy’s suddenly starving eyes that she was barely dressed in a chemise and stockings held in place by pink beribboned garters. The bunched fabric of the shift barely covered the upper curve of her small round bottom.  His gaze followed the curve as it led to the shadowed place between her slightly parted thighs.  He licked his lips and stared as the towel dropped to the floor and his hand slid to his drawers, gliding over the erection that had instantly sprung to life.  Brushing over it, he tilted his head, watching her, wanting her, imagining how he wanted to slide in behind her . . .  With a sigh, Elizabeth turned away from the pillow onto her back, revealing the barest glimpse of his dewy rose and teasing his every instinct. 

“Oh my . . .” Darcy breathed raggedly, still brushing the back of his fingers over the taut fabric of his drawers as he became harder with each passing moment.  Elizabeth’s lips parted and she stretched, beginning to wake.  His eyes travelled from her mouth to her breasts.  He swallowed, his throat suddenly parched, and his hand pulled open the tie at his waist.  “Wake.”  He urged her in a low whisper as his drawers sagged over his hips.  “Wake and see what you do to me.” 

He could smell the scent of roses and lavender in the air and imagined her rubbing the lotion all over her body. 
For me.
  Darcy groaned, knowing how that perfume would entice him every moment they danced.  And the warmer the room would become, and the warmer her skin, the more delicious she would smell.  Her face would glow from the exertion of dancing, her eyes would sparkle, her laughter would bubble, and everything, everything would tease and lure him, just out of reach, too close, too public, too tempting . . . all night long.  The anticipation of the sweet ecstasy, the shattering pleasure of sinking into the velvety smooth warmth of his wife would make him nearly insane with wanting.  He would try to convince her to steal away, he could imagine slipping into a dark corner, taking her against a wall and burying his face against her throat while he held her, so possessively, and drove into her again and again and again to the steady tempo of some dance, hoping, but not really caring, if the music covered their cries. 

Somewhere in the desire-filled fog of his brain, he heard the door to the servants’ stairs opening, and he found enough clarity to tie his drawers haphazardly before flying to Elizabeth’s side to snatch up the rumpled blanket and cover her soft, inviting body.  Shakily, he sat down beside her, and somehow managed to laugh at himself.  He could not bear to share her with anyone, not even the maid who saw her unclothed every day.  He looked into her peaceful face and stroked back her hair.  “I am jealous of the sun that warms your skin, love.  That is
my
duty.”  Smiling again, he managed to take a steady breath and leaned down to taste, then caress her lips with a kiss.  Elizabeth sighed and instinctively reached for him.  Darcy felt his desire rising again as she kissed him in the deeply intimate way he had taught her so long ago.  He moaned and she opened her eyes as his hand found her breast.

“You are not a dream.”  She smiled sleepily. 

“No.”  He shook his head and forced himself away.

“Oh Will . . .” She reached up to touch his freshly shaven face.  “Look at you.”

“What do you see?”  He asked hoarsely. 

Elizabeth smiled at his darkened eyes, the flush in his cheeks, and felt his desire in the way he touched her.  “I want you, too.” 

He smiled shyly and dropped his gaze.  “Am I so obvious?”

Her hand passed over his lap and she kissed him.  “To me, yes.” 

“Then the world will see it.”  Looking upon her again, he touched her hair, then turned when he heard Judy moving around in the dressing room.  “You should dress.  I imagine that there is a great deal of . . . work involved?” 

“Do I look so very bad?”  She laughed and sat up.  The blanket fell away and her dusky nipples shone through the thin fabric of the chemise.  Darcy stared and said nothing, and she touched his cheek, drawing his attention back to her eyes.  “I suppose not.”

“I should go and dress, too.” 

“That sounds like a prudent idea if we are to be downstairs to greet our guests.”  Smiling, she ran her fingers through his hair.  He did not move.  “Will?” 

“hmmm?” 

“Do you want to dance with me?” 

“mmmhmm.” 

“In the ballroom?  Or here?”  At last his eyes lifted from her bosom to find her eyes sparkling.  “Hurry.” 

He smiled crookedly and kissed her.  “Only if you do, too.” 

“OH, GEORGIANA.” Elizabeth turned around from her seat at the mirror.  “Wickham?”

She nodded.  “Samuel was so angry.  He barely said a word the whole way home.”

“I cannot say that I blame him.  What were you sobbing about before you left for Lambton?  Was it not about that man and how he has touched every facet of your life?  Is that not the reason why Samuel asked you to go riding with him in the first place?” 

She looked down at her twisting hands, “I was sure that Samuel was going to go after him.”

“I can just imagine your brother’s reaction to
that
, leaving you alone to make your way back to Pemberley?  Five miles to the gate and then almost half that to the house?”  She shook her head to see realization dawn upon her sister.  “He would not leave you alone, Georgiana, no matter how much he wanted to hurt Wickham for approaching you.  He had to turn away and take you home.  There was no choice in the matter.  If Mrs. Annesley had been with you . . . If Fitzwilliam or Richard had seen him . . .” She closed her eyes.  “There would be no ball tonight or at the least the constable would be at our door, and all of Derbyshire would want to know why the Master of Pemberley had committed murder.”  Seeing her distressed sister Elizabeth forced herself to calm and took her hand.  “Did he frighten you?  Were there any demands or threats?  Did he want money?”

“No nothing like that at all.  I was . . . startled and surprised, but no, he did not scare me.  He did what he said he would.   He just asked after me, and Hope.”  She smiled a little.  “I was . . . I was a little proud of myself.  I asked him about Aunt’s ring and . . . and I was calm . . .”