Sharon Lathan - Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One

Their luggage had been sent ahead earlier in the day, so all would be ready upon their arrival. Darcy was breathless in anticipation of this night! Not just for the obvious reasons of their promised intimacy and consummation of their marriage, but for the peace and relief from the hustle and bustle of the past two months. Just to be alone with his beloved! Never in his life had any evening been so tremendously and lovingly contemplated.

The carriage pulled off the main road, and Darcy knew they were close to their destination. “Elizabeth,” he whispered softly, “wake up, my love; we are almost there.”

She moaned softly and wriggled closer to his side, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist. “Much too comfortable here,” she murmured sleepily. “Do not want to move.”

Darcy chuckled. “Well, imagine your heightened comfort in our room, and perhaps that will help you wake up.”

She leaned her head back, safe and warm within the circle of his embrace, gazed into his brilliant eyes, and smiled. “You make an excellent point, Mr. Darcy, most excellent indeed!”

They stared for a long moment with their arms remaining tightly wound about each other. Finally Elizabeth could stand it no longer and exclaimed with breathless impertinence, “Are you going to kiss me, husband, or do I need to beg?”

He smiled impishly. “Perhaps I should have you beg. That might be interesting to watch. The proud Miss Bennet begging.”

“Ah, but I am no longer Miss Bennet and since you hold the monopoly on pride, William, I daresay I would not be very amusing at all!” Her eyes were twinkling as they always did when she teased him.

He feigned deep consideration and seriousness while lowering his face to hers slowly. “Now it appears it is your turn to make an excellent point, Mrs. Darcy.” He kissed her gently at first, then deeply as she responded in kind. Cupping one cheek and caressing tenderly, Darcy murmured, “I love you, Elizabeth, my wife.” Allowing no opportunity for her to reply, he reclaimed her lips. Who knows how far the kisses may have gone, but, alas, they were interrupted by the carriage stopping with a jolt. Darcy released his wife with a lingering caress and regretful sigh.

They were greeted at the courtyard door of the inn by Mr. Hamilton. He welcomed them both as they alighted from the carriage and hurried them into the warm and inviting reception room. A servant took their coats and gloves. Darcy spoke to Mr. Hamilton, assuring that all arrangements had been carried out, while Elizabeth looked around the room. The pub was to the left through an archway of polished oak and gray stone. Two men in farmer’s garb sat at the edge of the bar, ale mugs in hand, as they attended to an unseen minstrel whose strains of violin music could be faintly heard.

The reception area was a quaint and cozy room warmed by a roaring fire in a huge fireplace located to the right; numerous chairs and couches were positioned around the heat source. An older gentleman sat in one chair, newspaper in hand, attending avidly to the words. A middle-aged couple sat upon a settee, lifting smiling faces to the Darcys, and nodding politely. There were rooms and hallways branching off from the main chamber, including a public dining area and what appeared to be a tiny library. Lizzy’s attention was diverted to a stout woman with a sunny face who appeared from around a large desk.

“Welcome, welcome!” she sang. “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy! How delightful! Newlyweds! How precious it is to have you spending your first days with us!” Mr. Hamilton turned and introduced his wife to Lizzy.

Mrs. Hamilton continued in her breathless, singsong way of talking, “Mr. Darcy has been our guest so very often! And now he is married! What a blessing it is! A private parlor is set up for dining, Mr. Darcy, just as you requested! Dinner will be ready momentarily! All the dishes you asked for, Mr. Darcy! Very private!”

She took Elizabeth’s hands and guided her toward a far room, all the while prattling on, “You look absolutely radiant, my dear! Stunning gown! And your hair! Beautiful!”

As Mrs. Hamilton continued, Lizzy glanced back to see Darcy grinning as he followed the two women down a short corridor to a small parlor overlooking the moonlit meadow outside the paned windows. Mrs. Hamilton seated them at a small table close to the fire, bustling about and rattling on, until Mr. Hamilton coaxed her out of the room with a promise that they would be left as unaccompanied as possible. Once alone, Darcy and Lizzy could not resist laughing.

“Are you pleased, dearest?” Darcy asked, scooting his chair nearer until their knees were touching.

“Oh yes, William, it is all so very wonderful.” She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You have gone to so much trouble for me, and I do so appreciate it.”

“It was no trouble at all, my love, and I must confess I was not only thinking of you,” he replied with a laugh, kissing her fingers. “As we have established, I am a rather selfish man and I want you all to myself, far away from Bennets and Bingleys or anyone else!”

“Well, now you have me, for better or worse. I hope I do not disappoint,” she said with a sly look from under her lashes and a firm squeeze to his knee.

Suddenly Darcy had a difficult time catching his breath. “Oh no, Elizabeth. I am positive that it would be impossible for you to disappoint me in any situation.” He placed his free hand over the dainty one resting on his knee, leaning instinctively toward her.

Sadly, before any further action could be taken, a maid entered with the first course. Darcy jerked backward with a ready blush, Lizzy laughing. The dinner was excellent, all of Elizabeth’s favorite dishes, but neither of them were hungry. Odd, considering they had not eaten much all day, what with wedding jitters and endless socializing. The fact that this finally was their wedding night seemed to occur to them both at the same time. Anxiousness, underlying passion, and hints of nervousness dissolved any appetite.

Finally the courses had been served and taken away barely eaten. With scarcely concealed enthusiasm and a faint rosiness to her cheeks, Elizabeth announced that she would retire to her dressing room to change. Darcy nearly choked on his wine, but managed to maintain a calm demeanor as she rose from the table and leaned over to give him a brief kiss of passionate promise.

“Will it suit you if I am ready in half an hour?” she asked softly, to which he could only nod. With a tender caress to his cheek, she turned and left the room.

Never had thirty minutes lasted so long! Darcy truly thought he would lose his mind. He wandered into the small library and pulled a book off a shelf at random. Any attempt to actually read it was ludicrous to the extreme, but he made a show of it, employing all his well-perfected composure.

After twenty minutes he could stand it no longer and briskly strode to his dressing room. The house’s manservant was awaiting him and assisted Darcy with his toilette. Darcy again found himself calling upon every ounce of his strength of will not to rush through the agonizingly slow procedures. Common sense did prevail, thankfully, since he did not reckon his new wife would appreciate her new husband arriving with a bleeding face!

Eventually all was done and he nervously entered the bedchamber, only to find it empty of his wife. He wandered around the room, pleased with the décor and the attention to detail Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton had ensured. There were several vases of flowers about the room, a bottle of chilled champagne, a platter of fruits and sweets and breads, a sofa, and an enormous bearskin rug with several cushions before the blazing fire. The spacious four-poster bed was turned down invitingly, plump pillows waiting. Darcy went to the window and gazed out at the moonlit lake behind the house, breathing deeply to calm his nerves and halt his trembling. Nothing to do but wait.

Lizzy finished her preparations and dismissed her maid. The allotted thirty minutes had passed, but she remained seated at her vanity absently brushing her hair as she stared into the mirror, lost in memory.

Lizzy was no longer afraid of the intimacy to take place this night. In fact, she was actually highly excited, as scandalous as that may be in the opinion of some, such as her mother. However, it had taken some time for her to come to her current level of anticipation. She was a maiden, of course, but she understood the concept of the mating process. She had grown up on a working farm after all! However, understanding the mechanics of the sexual act in animals was far different than comprehending all the nuances inherent in the activity between people. The truth was that she had given the matter absolutely no thought.

Until William.

Upon her engagement, especially with the first tender kisses and touches of her betrothed, she found herself unable not to consider the realities. In fact, there were times when her mind could not focus on any topic except the intimate relationship between a man and woman, or more specifically between her and her fiancé. Usually, these times occurred when Darcy was near, but even visualizing him elicited the musings. Also, there were her dreams. The feelings and sensations his very presence engendered, not to mention when he touched or kissed her, were strong and incredibly pleasant.

As the weeks progressed, she found herself vacillating among excitement, shyness, desire, fear, happiness, anxiety, and every other emotion possible. That she desired Darcy was not a shock; it was the depth of her desire and the most obvious depth of his passion for her that left her stunned and breathless. He was so much more worldly than she! Would she be able to live up to his expectations? Would she know what to do when the time came? Would he be disappointed?

She smiled at the remembrance of her fears, easily conjuring up the uncertainty she had felt in those days not so very long ago and how Darcy had erased all of them. My amazing William, she thought, closing her eyes, how perfect he is and how I love him. 

Three days before the wedding

Lizzy awoke with a start and a gasp. She was breathing heavily, as if having run for miles uphill. Her body trembled and sweat beaded on her brow. This was the fourth morning in a row she had awoken in such a state.

She looked over at Jane sleeping peacefully by her side. Jane, luckily, slept like the dead and never seemed anxious or perturbed about anything. Rather annoying actually and Lizzy peevishly wanted to pinch her, but she resisted the urge. The glow of the sunrise was barely peeking through the drawn curtains. It could not be but six o’clock, if that. Lizzy knew it useless to attempt returning to sleep, nor did she want to.

That might make the nightmare return.

With a shudder she carefully left the bed, not that Jane would wake up even if she jumped up and down several times! Lizzy pulled on her robe and curled up in the plump chair by the window.

William, where are you? He had been away for a week and she missed him desperately. The ache was actually physical. He had traveled, again, to London to finalize his business interests and settle various unresolved issues. He was sacrificing this time, he explained to her, so that his affairs would not need his immediate attention during the first weeks of their marriage. His greatest desire was to be alone with her at Pemberley with minimal intrusions, business or otherwise. She appreciated what he was suffering on her behalf, but it still was grim to be separated from him. His letters, arriving once—sometimes twice—each day, comforted her. In clear language he poured into each sentence his own grief at their sundering and his enduring love.