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Elizabeth stared at him. “We? Do you mean to say that you intend to join me, sir?”

Darcy nodded.

“In my bath?” she asked, her tone incredulous and her brow raised nearly to her hairline.

“Yes,” he said, but then noticed her frown. “Surely this does not bother you?”

“I am surprised, that is all,” Elizabeth stammered. “I have never before shared my bath, Fitzwilliam.”

He returned to her and placed a kiss upon her lips as his hand caressed the softness of her cheek. “I am very relieved to hear it,” he said with a low growl and a roguish gleam in his eye. He kissed her again, this time more deeply, drawing forth a long sigh of satisfaction from Elizabeth after he released her. “Come, my wife,” he said, “and I shall attend you.”

*   *   *

The days immediately following the wedding were amongst the happiest Darcy and Elizabeth had ever known. The couple found great enjoyment being in one another’s society, spending an inordinate amount of time abovestairs in the master’s chambers, enraptured with one another. Quite unused to seeing the very proper and otherwise conventional master of Pemberley flouting even the most minuscule customs of propriety, the staff of Darcy House soon found themselves unprepared for the unguarded and rather amorous behavior they caught him engaging in with his pretty new wife in public locations throughout the house, including, but not limited to, stolen kisses and intimate embraces in the hallway abovestairs, in the conservatory, in the master’s study, in the breakfast parlor, in the music room, and in the library.

Not at all eager to embrace the prospect of receiving callers at Darcy House so soon after having installed his lovely bride to her rightful place within, the master gave strict instructions to Mrs. Hildebrandt and the rest of his staff that he and Mrs. Darcy were not at home to visitors, and therefore, under no circumstances, save for the gravest of family emergencies, were they to be disturbed by company until well into the new year. If left solely to Darcy, the couple would easily have remained sequestered for many weeks, nay, many months on end, however impractical that may have proven to have been.

While content to remain exclusively in her husband’s society, Elizabeth could not, in all good conscience, forego celebrating the Christmas holidays with her family so long as they chose to remain in London. Therefore, on the twenty-fourth of December, it was with no small degree of difficulty she finally managed to persuade her uncooperative and surprisingly petulant husband to dress for dinner and order their carriage to deliver them to Gracechurch Street. There, they would pass the evening in the most agreeable company of her aunt and uncle, father and eldest sister, and, for Darcy, at least, the almost unbearably trying company of her mother and three younger sisters.

As could be expected, dining once again with the Bennets was a lively affair, made even more so by the addition of Bingley, Georgiana, and the Gardiners’ four young children, all under the age of eight, whose excellent manners, incidentally, Darcy was not the least bit surprised to see far surpassed those of their elder cousin Lydia. Even after several days under the solicitous instruction and care of Lady Matlock, Lydia still appeared to be the same wild, flirtatious young woman she had been before; perhaps made even more so since Colonel Fitzwilliam was installed under the same roof, leading her to fancy herself enamored with him at all hours of the day and well into the night. Upon hearing her regale her mother with accounts of her outlandish escapades and machinations, all designed and executed at the expense of ensnaring the colonel, Darcy winced and fervently prayed that his cousin would not hold his outright denial for asylum in Darcy House against him. Indeed, his conscience was so guilt ridden that, should Colonel Fitzwilliam happen to show up on the doorstep later that very night begging his assistance, Darcy swore to himself he would permit his poor cousin occupancy for the duration of the Bennets’ stay in Town, even if it should be another month complete; though nothing, he suspected, would make up for the very great imposition of being the object of Lydia Bennet’s attentions.

Though they were a large party, Mrs. Gardiner chose to keep the dinner informal by leaving her guests to select their own seating arrangements, thus ensuring all in attendance were happily situated and at ease with their dinner partners. While Elizabeth was more than pleased to sit with her new sister to her right, Darcy was not so happy to have to relinquish the chair to her left to Mr. Bennet, who made a show of claiming the honor of his daughter’s company on the occasion. Fearing he would be left conversing with Mrs. Bennet, Mary Bennet, or, worse still, with an exuberant Kitty or Lydia, Darcy seized the opportunity of sitting beside Mr. Gardiner, with Jane to his left. With Bingley seated on her left, Darcy could hardly expect his sister-in-law to be an attentive dinner companion, but it hardly mattered, as he had found Elizabeth’s uncle far from wanting in that respect whenever he had been in company with him. Throughout the meal, they had intelligent discourse on all manner of subjects, oftentimes including Mrs. Gardiner in their discussions, who, to Darcy’s immense pleasure, seemed to be particularly knowledgeable and well informed on all aspects of her husband’s business affairs and political interests.

The entire party attended church services together at the cathedral located in the same area of town in which the Gardiners lived. Darcy was thankful for this arrangement, as it afforded Elizabeth and him some much-desired privacy—far more, he knew, than they would have received had they chosen to attend his own church near their neighborhood in Grosvenor Square, where many people knew him by sight, rather than by name and reputation alone. The service was very beautiful, and, not for the first time, Darcy found himself watching his wife, whose warm smile and glistening eyes were an indication of how moved she was by the miraculous spirit of the season. Darcy squeezed her hand and held fast to her until it was time to quit the church. Even then, he found himself willing to release her only until they had reached the privacy of their carriage, where he promptly took her in his arms and held her as the coach swayed and rocked over the cobbled streets on its way back to their Mayfair neighborhood.

By the time they arrived home, it was very late, and Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to retire to the warmth and comfort of Darcy’s arms. She quickly dressed for bed and joined him in his room, slipping beneath the counterpane to be enveloped by her husband’s embrace. She sighed in contentment as his lips caressed her curls. “How I have longed to have you to myself all evening,” he murmured against her hair. “You looked beautiful tonight in your crimson gown. I daresay you must have done it on purpose to torture me.”

Elizabeth let out a soft laugh as she snuggled against his chest. “Yes, I see you have finally figured it out, Fitzwilliam! No, my vanity will never again be satisfied with my being considered only tolerable. Heaven forbid you should once again find me ‘not handsome enough to tempt you’! As the wife of the formidable Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, it would be most unpardonable on my part. And you are now well aware that I loathe to be a cause of disappointment to you, my dearest husband.”

“You delight in teasing me, do you? Shall those wretched words never cease to haunt me, Elizabeth?” he asked with a rueful smile. Then, in a more serious tone, he said, “It was extremely ill-mannered of me to ever utter such an untruth. Though it is hardly an excuse, I fear I was far from being in a good humor that evening. I am afraid I was prepared to say anything to have Bingley leave me in peace, even at the risk of wounding the most beautiful young lady at the assembly.” His fingers skimmed over her shoulder, sending shivers of desire through Elizabeth. “I do not believe I have ever regretted saying anything more in my life than I have those words. Will you never forgive me?”