Leaning fully onto his body, head resting on his right shoulder, Lizzy submitted to the rampant vibrations elicited by skillful fingers and mouth. “Elizabeth, my precious, beautiful wife. I love you forever. The very thought of you excites me tremendously. Your scent, your velvet skin, your breath, your touch…” Endlessly he whispered as he kissed over her neck and shoulder. Darcy was a verbal lover, Lizzy had discovered to her delight. Unless his mouth was otherwise occupied, he generally was expressing words of love and pleasure. It was enormously stimulating, Lizzy found, for both of them. Lizzy tended to principally remain silent and had asked him if this dismayed him in any way. Darcy had smiled and laughed lowly, grasping her cheeks as he replied, “Oh, my lovely Lizzy, you are not the least bit silent when we make love. You moan and sigh and gasp and articulate the most amazingly sensual sounds, all unwittingly in response to me. Then, invariably, you cry my name. You need say nothing else for me to know how profoundly I have moved and gratified you.”

Such was the case now, as her incredible husband murmured love while arousing her body with an infinitely perfect touch. For a blissful period of time, they loved as they stood, finding that no place was beyond acceptable for the passion which raced through them. In time, Darcy halted, pulling her hard against his heaving and trembling chest. “My love,” he rasped, “come to our bed so I can love you face to face.” He inhaled shakily. “I would carry you, but I do not trust my strength.”

Lizzy pivoted in his arms with a sigh, capturing his mouth with a hungry urgency and stepping toward the door. Thus entwined and kissing voraciously, they slowly reached their intended destination. Lizzy discarded his encumbering robe, baring all his flushed skin to her seeking strokes. Darcy preferred to keep her gown on, experiencing one of those times when her partially and gauzily draped form whetted his appetite. He sat her on the edge of their bed, kneeling on the floor amid her parted legs.

They allowed a moment to calm and gaze at each other, visually feasting on the beauty to be found in the other's body. Darcy ran light fingertips all over her, admiring and worshipping, but especially thanking God for bringing her into his life. Lizzy kissed sensitively over the colorful contusion to his left chest, palms brushing up and down his back, across derriere and hips.

Lizzy smiled, meeting his intensely blue eyes. “Bruised and beaten, you are still stunningly gorgeous, my husband, my lover. How handsome you are, William! Hard, muscular, skin so soft and fair, your hairs exquisite under my hands,” she caressed up his chest to his neck as she said, “straight shoulders and your neck, I love your neck! I do not know why exactly, but I think it my favorite part of you, although that is impossible to pinpoint.” She finished with a laugh, pulling him to her lips as she fell onto the bed.

Darcy wasted no time returning to the warmth of her body. They kissed fervidly between pants and gasps of pleasure. Lizzy clutched his shoulders, squeezing mindlessly and causing Darcy to release a muffled cry of pain.

“Oh William, I am so sorry! Are you…?”

He shook his head and smiled, only momentarily faltering in expressing his ardency for her. After a dynamic period of amatory delight, Darcy rose up, smoothing hair from her perspiring, rosy face. “Mrs. Darcy, I adore you,” he huskily whispered. “More than my life, I love you and always shall.” He kissed her lips, loving totally until both were overcome with flaming sensations.

As he shuddered and fell to rest his head on her chest with unsteady respirations, Lizzy laced fingers through his hair, fighting for oxygen as well, yet contented and trembling with bliss. In time their breathing slowed and Darcy kissed her breasts, lifting to gaze into her glazed brown eyes. She smiled, reaching to feather over his face.

“I love you,” she said simply.

“I love you,” he answered back, smiling as he kissed her. “Every time with you, my heart, is better than the last. Is this possible?”

“Our love grows, dearest. I suppose it is a reflection of that.”

Darcy stood shakily then flopped onto the bed, drawing her into a tight embrace. Lizzy nestled as close as feasible, inhaling deeply of his male aroma that was augmented deliciously by love-induced sweat. She delicately fondled him, reveling in the afterglow of their rapture and so exhilarated to simply be near him. She kissed his chest. “I wish we could stay like this all day. Rest for a spell then make love again, eat a bit then make love more. I think I could happily remain in your embrace for all eternity, endlessly touching and arousing you.” She giggled then looked up into his sparkling eyes. “See what you have done to me? Hopelessly wanton and amorous.”

“How terrible for me,” he grinned. “What shall I do with you?” Twining his fingers through her hair, he drew her in for a lingering kiss.

“You must grant me whatever I wish,” she replied saucily once he released her. “Your vows demand it!” He merely chuckled and did not answer except to kiss her forehead and squeeze tighter. Lizzy fingered over his bruised chest. The colors were amazing and Lizzy, no stranger to bruising herself, was impressed. The feeling, circulation, and strength to his arm had been restored completely. It was the shoulder and upper arm that yet pained him. Lizzy speculated it was undoubtedly from the severe wrenching when Athena reared rather than the impact with her hoof. The chest area itself was only mildly painful, as typical with a serious contusion. “You will ask your uncle to examine your injury as soon as possible, will you not, beloved?”

Darcy nodded. “I will. In all honesty, I am anxious to hear his opinion. It does hurt more than I expected it to after so many days, which concerns me somewhat.” He studied her anxious eyes, wiping away the tears that readily sprung. “I was not evading when I told you I have suffered worse, love. Once, when I was seventeen, I was thrown and my heel caught in the stirrup. I was dragged only a few feet, but my thigh muscle was strained terribly. I could not bear weight for a whole week, which drove me and every servant in the manor nearly insane.” He laughed in memory, softly caressing her face. “I am not a complacent patient, my dear. Your moments of pique during your convalescence were sweet compared to mine.”

He turned to his side, caressing over her skin with a heady sigh and penetrating gaze. “You are so beautiful, Elizabeth,” he said dreamily.

“We were discussing your body, Mr. Darcy, not mine.”

“Yours is profoundly more interesting, my love.” He nestled into her neck for gentle nibbles, and speaking lowly, said, “I have been bruised and sprained so many times I have lost count. Not to mention the scrapes, lacerations, and twice broken bones. In the end, I think sprains are the worst in that only time mends them.” He met her eyes with a smile. “I told you I had a reckless youth. My uncle may know a different treatment to speed recovery, as he learns varied techniques from the cultures he lives with. He travels all over the Far East—not just in India where he now resides—always learning. The man is insatiable. His thirst for knowledge exceeds mine tenfold, if that gives you any indication of the breadth of his wisdom.”

All during his monologue, Darcy had been intermittently kissing his wife and fondling gently, Lizzy trying to attend diligently to his words. He stroked over her abdomen, pausing at the swell of their baby, hoping to feel movement to no avail. Continuing on with titillating manipulation, he lovingly adored his wife, proving yet again his ardent desire for her and astounding potency and masculinity.

“I have rested, my lover, and am perfectly willing to fulfill my vows as you requested,” he whispered huskily with a naughty leer.

Lizzy opened her mouth to flash a smart retort, but at that moment the mantle clock chimed nine o’clock. They both glanced over then returned their gazes to the other, Darcy never relenting in his stimulation.

“Breakfast will be served soon, Fitzwilliam. We should rise and dress. I do not think—” She gasped, closing her eyes briefly in pleasure. “Beloved, there is not time…”

“There is always time to love you, my wife,” he firmly proclaimed, pulling her body onto his front side, “always time.” Then, he halted any further argument with a persuasive kiss—not that Lizzy had any desire to argue.

Mr. Joshua Daniels arrived promptly at two o’clock, adding punctuality to his growing list of virtues. Darcy opted to stay home despite several business needs, both to act as chaperone and to await his uncle's appearance. He worked all morning in his study, listening attentively for the door chime, while the ladies meticulously planned the tea. Mary thought them all slightly mad at the attention to detail, yet was embarrassingly pleased by the fuss.

Mary was beautiful in the gown Georgiana had lent her. It was a solid deep blue with a faint metallic sheen subtly woven in, the cut simple and temperate, although Mary's fuller figure did stretch the bodice beyond true modesty. She resisted Marguerite coifing her hair, insisting on pulling it back into a basic chignon and relenting only in wearing a clip of tiny pearls. Lizzy deliberately rearranged the parlor with a small table and two chairs positioned off to one side, close enough for the other occupants to converse and offer support yet separate enough to allow the young couple to talk quietly together. Darcy had stood insolently leaning against the doorjamb, grinning humorously as Lizzy ordered footmen about like a general planning a military campaign. He extended the occasional quip and droll suggestion but was essentially ignored, Lizzy finally commanding him to “go do something useful.”

An array of edible delights had been concocted by the excellent kitchen staff for the tea, and Darcy even joined the group initially, though adding little to the general conversation, his wife being far more adept at orchestrating flowing communication. Correctly assuming that his dominating and severe presence would hamper full relaxation, Darcy shortly excused himself, pleading a pile of work on his desk, which was the truth.

Lizzy was impressed by Mr. Daniels's general ease. He was mildly nervous, but conversed effortlessly on numerous subjects. Following a predetermined agenda, Georgiana and Kitty excused themselves, leaving Lizzy to play chaperone from a chair in the far corner. With head bent diligently over her embroidery, Lizzy surreptitiously observed her sister.

Mary said little during tea, interjecting with the occasional comment, but allowing the others to lead. Despite the fact that Mary was her sister, Lizzy could not well ascertain the thoughts behind Mary's calm demeanor. Now, with just the two of them relatively alone, Mr. Daniels visibly relaxed and Mary slowly opened up as well. Lizzy noted that their dialogue steadily continued with the appropriate amount of smiles, eye contact, and soft laughs.

“How are you enjoying your stay in Town, Miss Bennet?”

“Tremendously. But I will confess that the noise and diminished fresh air is bothersome to me. I have lived all my life in the country, so the environment of the city is odd. However, there is certainly no lack of entertainment.”

“Have you never been to London?”

“Infrequently, and not for a number of years. My aunt and uncle dwell in Cheapside, so we visit from time to time; however, my parents are not fond of Town. I must say I have been surprisingly pleased at how enjoyable my sojourn here has thus far been.”