Darcy clutched her harshly, her feet lifted off the ground as he crushed her to his chest, Lizzy kneading his shoulders with steely hands. The kiss continued unrelentingly, both probing and claiming custody rights. Slithering as an eel, Lizzy escaped his grip, loosening his shirt tail from his waistband, and crouching to plant moist kisses to his belly.
“Only mine,” she murmured against his exposed abdomen.
Lizzy traveled voraciously up his torso as the shirt was peeled away, eventually tossed haphazardly as she interspersed hungry kisses with numerous firmly declared only mine statements. She was everywhere on him, kissing and touching. Not an inch of his flesh escaped her conquest; her demand to once again affirm her title to him ruled.
Darcy was dizzy, swaying on his feet with passionate flame. Neither fully realized they were stepping incrementally toward the bed until the edge was felt behind his knees. With a combined shove and pull, they fell onto the mattress, Lizzy on top of his body. Their eyes met for a second, insane lust and absorbing protectiveness visible.
Lizzy reached to free him, holding his gaze. Untying her chemise to expose her breasts for firm caresses, Darcy watched her, panting stridently as she shifted. She paused, the moment stretching as eyes locked. “All for me, Fitzwilliam, and I only for you.” He nodded, unable to speak, and they merged, Darcy hungrily pulling her in for a savage kiss.
Forever, it seemed, they danced. Always needing more, wanting the sensations to cascade higher and endure eternally. There is a limit; however, they consistently managed to transcend the previously attained boundaries over and over again. Lizzy dug her nails into his shoulder, whimpers passing ruddy, occupied lips as they crashed and flew joyously over the pinnacle of bliss.
They both collapsed, lying entwined and dazed for long minutes. Lizzy caressed over his fair skin, a feeling of intense relief rendering her again breathless. Despite it all, the reality of how close they came to losing each other yet reared up and terrified them. Tears sprang to her eyes and she squeezed him tight, Darcy lifting to brush her tears away.
“Hush, beloved,” he whispered tenderly, bottomless amounts of love conveyed in his husky voice. “We were meant to be, fated by God, I believe. Nothing would have kept us apart, and nothing ever will.” He kissed her softly, brushing warm lips over hers, no longer possessively but with belonging and unity.
The Darcy's sojourn in Derby lasted five days total. It had, in fact, been seven years since Darcy tarried in Derby for more than a day or two, many of the local curiosities and attractions unseen. For Lizzy, having only passed through the Midland area on her way to and from Pemberley, it was an adventure and a delight.
They rose early on their second day in town, breakfasting light in the common room, and then set out to tour the township itself. They walked first to the Derby Cathedral, an ancient church built in the tenth century originally, although much of the early stones of those far gone days no longer remain. The truly impressive part of the church, and where it attained its fame, was in the two-hundred-foot, Gothic tower built in the sixteenth century during the reign of Henry VIII. The church proper and attached building for clerics and attendants had undergone numerous renovations over the centuries, the final product a mélange of varied styles. However, one glance at the tower and all else faded. It was stupendous.
Lizzy and Darcy arrived early, only a few other folks about. The grounds were beautiful with blooming flowers and tall shady trees. Like all churches everywhere, a serene hush existed in the arched interior. Long rows of wooden benches with a handful of supplicants in meditation and prayer graced the inner sanctum of curved white and gold columns. An elaborate and truly breathtaking, lacy, wrought-iron screen separated the nave from the chancel, two clerics actively offering prayers as Lizzy and Darcy entered. They wandered quietly, admiring the beauty visible in every inch of the environs. Darcy sat for a spell, gazing up at the altar, visage peaceful as he said silent prayers.
The nearly two hundred steps ascending to the topmost landing of the tower were steep and narrow, but the view from above was exhilarating. A faint breeze blew over the treetops, brushing soothingly over their perspiring brows, the air fresh as they inhaled deeply to recover from the strenuous climb. One could see all of Derby stretched below, as well as much of the valley extending beyond. They stood together, winded but admiring the view in quiet solitude, no one else energetic enough to tackle the stairs as yet. The rivers Derwent and Wye could easily be seen as they wound through the valley until they merged, wending to the horizon where they disappeared into a blue glint.
“I have never in my life been in a building so tall,” Lizzy said in awe. “Amazing that man can build such a structure and have it last these three hundred years.” She leaned against his arm, breathing heavily.
“Are you alright, my love?”
“Yes, although I do not think I should venture the climb when nine months pregnant!” Darcy chuckled, hugging her close. Once she felt adequately rested they descended, the downward climb far easier.
Leaving the cathedral, they meandered leisurely through the streets. Darcy pointed to the occasional oddity or old building, impressing Lizzy with his knowledge of the area. She expressed her pride, but he laughed. “Thank you, dearest, for your faith in my ready recollection and intellect, but I assure you that for each fact imparted, I have likely passed by a dozen others unremembered or unknown. I truthfully have spent little time learning the region this far south. Now, when we tour the highlands and Peaks, I will dazzle you with my brilliance!”
Despite his words, Lizzy had a fair familiarity with the town by the time they rested for luncheon. The highlights as far as she was concerned were the Cathedral, naturally, as well as Exeter House where Bonnie Prince Charlie plotted his failed reclamation of the throne in 1745, and the silk mill, one of a dozen mills utilizing the power of the River Derwent, but the oldest such mill in all of England and the one Darcy was financially invested in.
He took her to the cotton mill that he owned as part of a three-way partnership. She met Mr. Shultz, one of the partners, and received a full tour. Once again, she was astounded by the breadth of her husband's expertise. Peripheral awareness that he owned a mill had not translated to comprehensive appreciation of his proficiency on the subject. Mr. Shultz interjected upon occasion, but primarily Darcy explained in detail the function of each machine throughout the massive four-story building. Lizzy found it all immensely fascinating, having previously devoted minimal time to learning about machinery and technology. Marriage to a man like Darcy prevented ignorance, although she would never boast the intense comprehension he possessed. It was an enlightening morning, deepening their communion as they shared another facet of the complex Master of Pemberley.
They ate lunch at the Dolphin, the oldest pub in town dating from the mid-1500s. The food was not fancy, but the atmosphere of the tiny, intimate pub was fun. Lizzy felt as if she had stepped back in time with the dark wood bar and paneling, the stone fireplace massive, and windows of crackled glass. Darcy explained that, after dark, the pub would not be an appropriate place to take a lady, but the rowdy customers who retreated to such places for a pint or two were currently still working.
After dining, Darcy escorted Lizzy to the drapers. After much persuasion, Lizzy had finally convinced Darcy that, not only would he be bored out of his skull in such an establishment, but also his lurking presence would irritate her and likely prevent full concentration on necessary purchases for the baby. Therefore, he had agreed to pursue “manly” occupations while she shopped. In truth, he was relieved and rather excited about his planned amusement. Derby boasted the premiere fencing academy in Derbyshire, an establishment Darcy did attempt to visit whenever in the area. The combination of strenuous exercise in a pastime he so enjoyed while honing his skills with some of the best swordsmen in the region was too magnetic a draw to resist.