Words were lost in a rapturous kiss, Lizzy loving him with a rhythmic swaying motion, arms tenaciously over his shoulders and hands weaved in his hair. Oblivious to the outside world, which thankfully remained empty of all but a few birds and one rabbit, they danced and joined in perfect harmony. Pleasures of the flesh merged with the supernatural coalescing of spirits as two souls become one, not exclusively at the pinnacle of carnal glory but for all eternity.
“Why are you standing here and staring into the stable yard?”
Lizzy turned from the window to smile at her spouse as he crossed the empty room to join her with a soft kiss. She reached to caress a cheek, speaking lowly, “This was my chamber when I stayed here nursing Jane all those months ago. Do you remember?”
“Do I remember that you slept in the room three doors away from mine? Precisely twenty-two strides away? Yes, I do.”
Lizzy laughed. “You actually counted the steps?”
“Not consciously but, after passing this door numerous times over the course of those five days with an urgent desire to talk to you or at least nod politely, I noted the distance. But why are you in here now?”
“I was recalling a vision of extreme loveliness.” She tiptoed to kiss his baffled face and then laughed. She turned to look outside, leaning into his chest and clasping the arms that instantly encircled her. “On my third morning here, I woke early, as I always did, and went first to check on Jane. She was still feverish but asleep, so I returned to my room and sat at this window reading. I do not know how much time passed when I saw you. Down there.”
She pointed to the dirt clearing before the main stable doors. “You rode Parsifal, I swear the largest horse I had ever seen, startling me at how you barreled in full bore seeming to stop barely before colliding with the doors, and vaulted off his back in one smooth motion ere he was completely still. I had never witnessed the like. Your face was thunderous and even from this distance I could discern how heavily you were breathing. Fleetingly, I had wondered what in the world could have you so distraught, but mostly I was caught by your appearance.”
She gazed up at his face, noting the remote expression in his eyes as he stared sightlessly at the yard. “You wore your typical riding clothes, your hair windblown and shirt open. You spoke to the groom, handing the reins over, and then strode briskly to the water pump. To my mesmerized shock, you grasped the handle, pumping violently, and stuck your whole head and upper torso under the stream of water. Then you stood tall, arched your back, water flying everywhere when you flipped your head backward and ran your hands through your sopping hair. Water cascaded down your body with your shirt clinging and nearly transparent. God, William! You were an Adonis!” She chuckled shakily, squeezing the fingers entwined with hers. “Of course, it all happened so fast, and before I could really assimilate a coherent thought you abruptly swiveled your head toward this window, eyes angry and piercing. I jerked backward and slipped to the floor. I was so embarrassed! I thought you had somehow detected me staring. I can still remember how hot my face was, but am even now unsure if that was due to your catching me gaping, your breathtakingly gorgeous figure, or both! Probably both.”
He met her eyes, smiling his sensuous grin and firmly stroking over one hip. “Thank you for the compliment, my love. I did not see you, although I knew this was your room.” He bent and kissed her upturned lips reverently, whispering roughly, “That night I had my first erotic dream of you. I woke so angry with myself and with you, as illogical as that was. Not to mention aroused as I never had been in all my life. I could not accept what I was feeling for you, thinking it unacceptable on so many levels. I was an incredible fool, Elizabeth.”
“We were both fools, my heart.” She pivoted in his embrace, snaking arms over his shoulders and rising on tiptoes to brush plump lips. “So tell me truthfully. Did any of your dreams include sneaking into my room and ravishing me?” His ready flush provided the answer. “Hmmm… I thought so. You know, this room is unoccupied. We could reenact your fantasy tonight if you wish.” She finished with a flutter of lashes and arch grin.
Darcy chuckled lowly. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
“Yes, I know.”
For their last evening at Netherfield, the Bingleys and Darcys hosted a small dinner party of their own with primarily family and a few other couples, the total number around fifty. Elizabeth, deciding it was time for Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley to make a formal appearance, wore the ball gown from the Masque. Fully bejeweled and gloved, with hair stupendously arrayed, she was a vision of grace and elegance. Glowing with a radiance borne from within, fueled by a transcendent love and joy, Elizabeth was resplendent. Mr. Darcy was no less magnificent in his finery, with hair freshly trimmed by Samuel, and countenance equally euphoric as a result of his love and bliss and pride in his stunning wife.
Jane Bingley was gorgeous as well. Mr. Bingley, although not as wealthy as Darcy, spared no expense when it came to his wife. Therefore, Jane was gowned brilliantly, jeweled and coiffed and luminous. Only those guests with knowledgeable eyes could discern the finer weave or premiere cut to Elizabeth's outfit. However, every single person, most of them having known the Bennet girls all their lives, could not deny that for the first time Jane did not immediately stand out as the most beautiful of the two.
Darcy and Bingley proudly stood by their wives as they greeted the guests: Jane serene and gracious, Lizzy charming and effervescent, and both men awestruck anew by their good fortune. It was an evening, despite its simplicity, that would be gossiped about for months to come. The women in attendance would ceaselessly discuss the regalia worn; the men spoke of the fine food and spirits. All would comment on the affection displayed between both couples.
Charles and Jane, in the newfound fullness of their relationship, were nearly as giddy and ridiculous as the Darcys. Lizzy, never one to be demure, made no secret of her overwhelming love for her handsome husband. Darcy's musings were already racing ahead to how his Elizabeth would dazzle the ton of London society and his pride was boundless.
The last guest welcomed, Charles offered his arm to Jane, entering the decorated reception hall. Darcy turned to Lizzy. “Are you well, dearest?”
“Perfectly so, Mr. Darcy,” she replied, smiling up at his handsome face, straightening his flawless cravat—a sort of ritual for her. “I love you, William.”
“I adore you, Mrs. Darcy, more than life. Shall we then?” Arms entwined, they entered the hall.
Chapter Five
London, 1817
The London of 1817 was a city in-between. With a population well over one million souls, London was easily the largest single city in the world. The self-indulgent excesses of the Georgian Period had waned along with the madness of its King. While George III remained locked safely away at Windsor Castle, his son and future King, George the Prince Regent, ushered in an Age of Elegance, embracing the arts and science with all issues devoted to the advancement of beauty, style, and taste. The two wars and crushing defeats by the new United States of America were a memory, and Napoleon Bonaparte had finally been eliminated, thus permanently ending the decades-long unrest in France. This allowed a resurgence of exchange in both goods and culture, inaugurating an influx of technology, industry, and immigrants.