The three younger men were all rather pale, wincing in the bright sunlight and trembling. They spent their day in quiet pursuits, primarily in the library with the draperies drawn. The servants, although somewhat bleary eyed from their own night of revelry, had boxed up the feast residuals for the orphanages. Lizzy insisted on delivering them herself, and Amelia agreed to accompany her. The two orphanages nearest to Pemberley were large establishments housed in solid brick buildings, full to capacity, maintained and financed by the combined charity of the prominent families of the Shire and the local parishes. The first was actually on Pemberley lands in the tiny village and was managed by the Church, the second in Baslow and operated by the Catholics.
Lizzy was overwhelmed and fiercely moved by the children’s pleasure and charm. Each of them was adorable in their own special way, appreciative, playful, and loving. Her wonder and joy in observing their delight was immense. This simple Boxing Day tradition would translate into another Mistress of Pemberley benevolence, as Lizzy would volunteer most every Friday afternoon at the Pemberley orphanage in the years to come.
For the inhabitants and guests at Pemberley, the eleven days between Christmas and Twelfth Night were memorable and exceedingly pleasurable. The weather was primarily clear, if extremely cold, another three inches of snow dropping only one other night. This fairness allowed for frequent walks, more ice skating, fishing twice again with Col. Fitzwilliam and Darcy partaking once, horseback riding, and the annual winter fox hunt for the gentlemen of the region. The men socialized at the coffeehouse once and The Red Deer pub twice, while the ladies strolled through Lambton shopping. For the most part, they remained inside the manor enjoying its warmth and homey comforts, excellent entertainments by the diversely artistic group, games of all varieties, conversation, and fine dining. Afternoon retreats to the upper chambers for napping and intimate occupations were not uncommon.
The Lathrops and Gardiners were to stay until the ninth of January. Richard, unfortunately, was required to return to his regiment in Town on the third. Madame du Loire delivered Lizzy’s ball gown on the second, performing the final fitting personally. The women were all twittery and gushy, casting numerous sly glances Darcy’s way, much to his embarrassment but escalating excitement.
Lizzy had precious few private moments to glance through the book she had taken from Darcy’s cabinet and no opportunity to discuss his letter, personal memoirs, or the books with him until the morning of the twenty-eighth. Between the whirlwind of activities and host duties and Darcy’s indisposition the day after Christmas, they had secured no private time at all. This day she decided, with deliberate planning, to wake her husband early and monopolize the entire morning. Such was her anticipation that she slept poorly, yet undeterred and with bounding heart, she slipped out of bed at the crack of dawn to freshen up and garb herself in Darcy’s favorite gauzy nightgown. She returned hastily. Darcy slept supine with one arm across her empty pillow as if reaching for her. He was lulled into partial awareness by the pleasurable sensation of his wife nuzzling and kissing his neck while caressing his chest.
“Hmmm…” He sighed, impulsively hugging her tightly and lacing his fingers through her cascading hair. Far more asleep than awake, he nonetheless sought her lips and kissed her lazily and then with increasing ardor as he roused further in response to her insistence. Once she sensed he was completely awake, she pulled away from his iron grip, not an easy task, and sat up on her knees.
“Elizabeth,” he pleaded, voice hoarse from sleep and desire, “please…”
She halted his words with a finger to his lips. It was then that he fully noted her attire and his grin spread. “Happy anniversary, my darling husband,” she said in a throaty whisper while lightly running her fingers over his face. “Did you forget, my love, that today marks one month of our wedded bliss?”
“No, beloved. I simply intended to allow you to sleep longer before I gave you your gift,” he replied, reaching up and firmly tugging on one of the ties to her gown.
“Would you prefer to resume your slumber then? Or can I interest you in an alternate bedroom activity?”
“I shall assume those are rhetorical questions requiring no answer.” Another tie released.
“Very well then.” She reached across his body, deliberately, for the book resting on his bed stand. Somehow the third tie came loose.
“Ha!” he laughed harshly when he saw the book. “How long have you had that?”
She primly pursed her lips and lifted her chin, “Let us just say that you would have lost your bet with Mr. Vernor, had you made it.” He continued to chuckle as another tie was undone and she slapped his hand. “Focus, sir.”
“I am,” he mumbled, but she ignored him.
Lizzy opened the book, trying unsuccessfully not to blush. “Page five is promising, as is thirteen. However, twenty intrigues me. Of course we could attempt all three.” She said the last in a whisper, cheeks flushed, and eyes downcast.
Darcy watched her with amusement and overwhelming love. “You promised not to incapacitate me, love. I am only human.”
She smiled and met his twinkling eyes. “I made no such promise. You merely asked me to pity your advanced age and presumed I would acquiesce. Besides, I have the utmost faith in your stamina and capabilities.”
“Ah, a challenge!” he declared, briskly snatching the book from her hands. “The gauntlet has been thrown! Let me see, page five… Hmmm, yes it is doable.” He slyly glanced at her bright face, turning the book to the left and studying it intently. Lizzy giggled and lay at his side with her head on his shoulder so she could see the pages. He flipped to page thirteen and employed a clinical tone, “Interesting, very interesting. Excellent choice Mrs. Darcy, if you deem yourself adequately flexible. Your taste is impeccable.” She hid her rosy face in his upper arm, shaking with mirth. “Now, page twenty. Intriguing indeed! Allow me a moment to peruse the text to comprehend the finer nuances…”
Suddenly the book was jerked from his grip, tossed onto the floor and Lizzy’s lips descended onto his forcefully. He rolled her to the side clasping her tightly, one hand cupping her face. “Elizabeth,” he breathed, “I love you wholeheartedly. Happy anniversary, beloved.” He released the last tie to her gown and, with a happy smile, peeled the silky fabric away from one creamy shoulder, kissing the exposed flesh softly and murmuring “page five” before claiming her mouth. He stroked her arm with feather touches, no urgency in his actions as of yet.
They lay facing each other for a long while, kissing and caressing, legs entwined, allowing their passion to rise gradually. Lizzy’s suggestions, all intoxicating to Darcy, would require tremendous control on his part and the truth was that he did not think he could manage all three positions in one lovemaking session. He appreciated his wife’s confidence in his sexual prowess, but he knew his own limits. He adored her innocent enthusiasm, though, and was determined to please her now and forever.
His kisses traveled over her neck, following the trail blazed by his fingers until reaching their destination at her bosom. Lizzy moaned softly as Darcy rolled her onto her back. “Sweet, delicious wife,” he murmured as he kissed her breasts, Lizzy arching into him as her hands moved over his shoulders.
“William?”
“Hmmm?”
“I have a confession about the book.”