Placing a hand lightly on her elbow, he steered unobtrusively out the side door into the billiard room. Closing the door firmly and leaning against it, he clasped her waist and drew her toward him for a deep kiss. Eventually pulling away, he feathered fingertips over her shoulders and neck. “I beg your forgiveness, my heart. It was early morning since last I avowed my ardent, consuming love for you.”
“True, beloved; however, you declared your love so spectacularly that I am yet tingling from the expression. There is no dereliction to pardon unless you fail to comment on my gown. The intention, after all, was to dazzle you. Either I have erred in my choice or you shall be in serious trouble.”
Darcy laughed lowly. “Your choice is perfection, my love. You are perfection.” He trailed one finger along her bodice. “I will confess to some hesitation and jealousy over any other observing so much of your delightful flesh.”
“Yet I belong to you, dearest, and only you shall ever view all of me.” She smiled. “Truthfully, William, am I presentable? I wish you to be proud of me.”
He cupped her face and kissed tenderly then smiled archly. “You place a dilemma before me, love. If I profess my irrepressible pride in all aspects, internal and external, which attribute to your flawlessness and that you are mine, then you may again accuse me of being arrogant and haughty. However, if I do not extol your exquisite beauty, impeccable character, and sparkling personality, I would be false and—what was it—be in ‘serious trouble’?”
She laughed. Pressing into his body with hands traveling over his derriere, she responded with an absorbing kiss. They were interrupted moments later by a rap to the door behind Darcy's head.
“Pardon the intrusion, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, but we should be leaving now. Unless, of course, you have decided to forego the opera in lieu of alternate pastimes?”
“We shall be there shortly, Richard. Go away.”
“As you command, cousin.” Lizzy was suppressing her giggles. Darcy tarried for another kiss and then offered an arm to his wife.
The society rumor mill had run full force during the immediate months after the engagement of Mr. Darcy to the penniless country girl of low rank. With some sadness and chagrin, but mostly joy at the fodder for juicy gossip, the topic of Darcy's choice was premier. It had ebbed somewhat after a month or so, only to flame anew at the announcement of the intimate nuptials in Hertfordshire, of all places. Then, with the populace dispersal for the winter and early spring, the chatter had died completely. As the influx of the elite increased in May, the mystery of the Darcy marriage and long absence from Town had resurged as a discussion point. The curiosity of it all was too succulent a morsel to ignore completely; however, after six months, there were dozens of torrid affairs far more interesting to chatter about. Even the crushed unmarried debutantes of the ton had turned their gazes elsewhere. Only in the past week, as the awareness of the Darcys’ residence had gradually filtered through the parlors of Mayfair and St. James's Place, did the gossip freshly rage. The question of why the seclusion at Pemberley for six long months and now the week-plus relative isolation was speculated with relish. Those fortunate souls who had been introduced to the new Mrs. Darcy when fortuitously encountering her while shopping were the celebrities of the inner circle.
Therefore, the fervor of interest was high. No one knew when or if she would formally make her entrance, but every last person prayed they would be present when she did. Thus it was with the crowd currently amassing in the grand foyer and reception hall of the Royal Theatre. Would this be the night? Of course, as with all society events, there were always a plenteous number of glittering personages of eminent importance to ogle and fawn over. The appearance of the Prime Minister, the famous boxer John Jackson, and the Russian Ambassador Count von Lieven with his wife, the famous Countess von Lieven, had already fanned the fires of excitement.
When the Darcy carriage finally crept to the front of the line, word had already begun to spread. Naturally, curiosity was high, but the talent involved with sating one's inquisitiveness while not observably appearing to do so was an art form well honed by the elite. Lizzy, ignorant of this skill, was hence spared the blatant stares which she had been expecting, enabling her to relax as she mounted the steps on her proud husband's arm.
A dashing and softly smiling Darcy escorted both his wife and sister. Colonel Fitzwilliam, resplendent in dress uniform, gladly lent his arms to Mary and Kitty. Lord and Lady Matlock stood outside the massive doors under the Corinthian columned portico in conversation with an elegant couple. The Earl noted their approach first, turning with a smile.
“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, and Miss Darcy.” Lord Matlock bowed, greeting them all with proper hand kisses, Kitty and Mary blushing furiously.
Lady Matlock kissed Lizzy's cheek. “Elizabeth, dear, you are radiant. Please allow me to introduce you to Ambassador von Lieven and his wife Countess von Lieven. Your Grace, Countess, this is my niece, Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Lizzy was nearly rendered speechless. She had heard of the Countess, a patroness of Almacks and hostess of one of the most elite salons in London, not to mention notorious as the mistress of Metternich. She was stunningly beautiful, exotic with almond-shaped eyes and raven hair. Her husband was as impressive as she, tall as Darcy but heavily bodied and sporting a full red beard. They greeted Lizzy warmly in their accented voices. Lizzy, thankfully, managed to speak calmly, natural charm and wit rushing to the forefront.
“Mrs. Darcy, the fortunate woman to capture the heart of the elusive Mr. Darcy of Pemberley!” Madame von Lieven proclaimed in a husky intonation, flicking her folded fan on Darcy's arm. “We were worried for you, Mr. Darcy. A man such as you should not remain a bachelor for so many years.” Darcy reddened as she tittered musically. “What a delight your surprise marriage has been! I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Darcy, for providing a wealth of titillating gossip for my salon.”
Darcy, blushing, bowed regally. “Happy to have been of service to you, Countess.”
“No no! The joy is entirely mine, kind sir. I must repay. Mrs. Darcy, you and Mr. Darcy absolutely must grace us with your presence. I shall send an invitation round and refuse to accept your decline!” She giggled again, fluttering her fan before her face as she turned to her silent husband. “There I go yet again, dear, as you incessantly accuse. Selfishly regarding only myself!” She turned back to Lizzy, who frankly did not know what to think of the effervescent and flirty Countess. “You see, Mrs. Darcy, by guesting you at my salon I shall be all the rage! As will you be, too, of course. To receive an invite to my salon is a prized acclamation.”
“I shall breathlessly await your kind offer, Countess. We will be delighted to accept.”
Conversation flowed along with numerous introductions. Lizzy met so many titled gentry and other members of society that the names eventually melded into a jumble. They slowly weaved their way inside, the mass of people loitering in the massive lobby and staircases talking, laughing, and flirting. Theatre events were valued for the social contact far above the production itself. To be seen in one's finery and conversing with a notable was the prime motive for attendance. The news that Mrs. Darcy had been invited to Countess von Lieven's salon spread like wildfire. Couple this endorsement with her charisma and attractiveness, association with the Matlocks, presentation, favorable reception by a plethora of prominent personages, and Darcy's smiling pose, and her entry into the ton was secured.