His Uncle's Favorite (69 page)

“It will be a long ride, but I am sure you will enjoy it.”

“I am sure I will… Will we go on Thunder?” she asked, and he started to laugh, suddenly turning her head so he could meet her lips.

“No, indeed. I really want to show you Pemberley, so we will take a phaeton. I do plan a ride on Thunder, though…in a few days…” he whispered against her ear, and she chuckled, then finally their lips met.

She was still in his arms, wrapped between his strong legs, her back against his chest; only her head was half turned so her lips could fully enjoy his passion. Slowly, his hands became eager and gently caressed her thighs, her hips, and then up along her arms. She attempted to turn to him, so she could return the caresses, but his arms entrapped her, so she abandoned herself to his tender caress, their lips joined in a growing, passionate kiss. Then his hands continued to explore tenderly; his left hand stroked her thighs while his right hand glided inside her nightgown, brushing her breasts with burning fingers. Her moan was strangled within the kiss while his caresses became more urgent.

“William, please stop,” she begged, but for a long moment, he ignored her plea as his gentleness became insistent. “Please stop; we cannot… Please…”

Her voice, more strong and clear, stopped his movements immediately. “Forgive me, my love. I did not intend to force your will… I was just… Please forgive me…”

She rolled in his arms, so she could face him then cupped his face with her small hands. He looked at her; she was flustered, her lips red and moist, her eyes bright.

“We cannot do this on the balcony… Someone might see us…”

He finally understood the reason for her plea; his eyes lit in delight and relief, and he turned to kiss her palms. “You are right, of course. Shall we return to our room?”

She nodded, still flushed, and they entered, holding hands. He closed the window and pulled the curtain then hurried to the bed and lay against the pillows, waiting for her to join him. With a mischievous smile, her eyes laughing at him, she placed herself with her back against him, to resume the identical position from the balcony. He laughed hoarsely. “You seemed to guess my wishes, Mrs. Darcy.”

He trapped her with his hands, placing countless kisses on her head, neck and shoulders; she chuckled as his lips tickled her ear, but he turned her head to silence her with a kiss. Without releasing her lips from his demanding kiss, he removed her nightgown; the room was half-dark from the heavy curtain, and she wrapped her arms over her breasts.

He gently pulled her back closer to his chest then slowly lifted her arms. His fingers brushed along her bare arms, her skin shivering from his touch, then cupped her breasts. Their soft roundness fitted as perfectly in his palms as he remembered; he stroked them with slow movements, his thumbs tantalising her nipples, which hardened at his touch. He was never more pleased than when hearing her moans of profound delight. He felt her moving slowly against him, painfully arousing his desire.

“I wish so much to be inside you that it hurts me…” he moaned against her ear while his hand possessively caressed her breasts.

“Please do not toy with me…” she begged, and he suddenly rolled her on her back, his weight crushing her. He watched her closely, their faces almost touching. Her hands encircled his waist; his legs parted hers even more while he tenderly kissed her lips. He tried to be gentle as he was certain it was still painful for her. With great delight, he found her warm and moist, and he entered her slowly, smoothly, moaning with exquisite pleasure.

She released a cry, and he stopped, looking at her intently. “Am I hurting you?”

“No…no… Please do not stop…” she begged.

“You are so sweet…and warm…” he moaned, moving slowly with long, deep strokes.

Her moans and his combined, her hips joining his rhythm and their hands caressing each other, their lips tasting. His thrusts increased their pace, stronger, harder and deeper, with equal pleasure and pain until her body shattered violently and she bit his lips, her fingers clinging to his hair. Their lovemaking continued with growing desire and insatiate demand for each other, and they did not find rest until sometime later when the sun was already up and the day had started.

But their embrace lasted even longer; in the comfort of his arms, Elizabeth fell deeply asleep again, and he watched her sleep in perfect silence and stillness. He barely dared to breathe, afraid that he might disturb her. He allowed her to rest until she finally woke on her own, her eyes smiling at him with bright happiness.

“Good morning, my dearest wife; how are you feeling?” He smiled tenderly.

“Good morning, my dearest husband.” She smiled back. “How am I feeling? Very happy…and very hungry.” She laughed, and he kissed her hair.

“Then I must make amends… I shall first take care of your hunger and give proper attention to your happiness later. But for now, I asked for our baths to be prepared, and after breakfast I have a surprise for you.”

“What surprise?” Her eyes sparkled even more in delightful anticipation.

His eyebrow rose in disapproval. “Mrs. Darcy, how can it be a surprise if I tell you what it is? But enough of this for now; Molly will be here in a moment to help you.”

In their separate rooms, they bathed and reunited a half hour later. They went down arm in arm, happily welcomed by Mrs. Reynolds’s contented smile. She asked if they were well and hoped they would enjoy their breakfast; she was rewarded with Darcy’s approving smile.

After breakfast, Elizabeth barely had time to gather her bonnet and her spencer before Darcy decidedly escorted her out onto the lawn. The soft warmth of the summer day and the splendour of the surroundings made Elizabeth gasp and sigh. She looked at her husband, her eyes moist with emotion. “So beautiful…” she whispered.

“It is beautiful, indeed. And now you have brought joy and liveliness to Pemberley—the only things that were missing for it to be perfect.” Then, in front of the house, spotted by several curious eyes from the windows, the master of Pemberley tenderly kissed his wife’s lips then her hand.

A small phaeton with two horses appeared; Darcy helped Elizabeth into it then sat beside her and took the reins. The horses stepped calmly and steadily along the avenue, the gentle summer breeze caressing Elizabeth’s face. She closed her eyes to enjoy the scent of freshness, but Darcy soon stopped the phaeton in front of the impressive stables. They climbed down from the phaeton, and Darcy guided Elizabeth to the entrance, where a man of middle age was waiting for them.

“Elizabeth, allow me to introduce to you Mr. Walter Colton, who has been taking care of our stables and horses in the most excellent manner for more than fifteen years.”

“I thank you, sir; your words honour me. Mrs. Darcy, we are all happy to have you here.”

“I am happy to be here, Mr. Colton,” she said, smiling genuinely whilst she glanced around at the remarkable specimens.

“Walter, we are in kind of hurry. Can you show us, please?”

“Certainly, sir. Please follow me; here she is,” he said, and he stopped in front of a box. Darcy turned to Elizabeth and spoke gently.

“This is Spirit. If you like her, she will be your horse.”

A splendid paint horse, white and black, stepped reluctantly towards them. Elizabeth gasped in surprise, her eyes wide open while she moved closer, entranced.

“What a beauty!” she exclaimed rapturously as she took another step forward. The horseman stretched his hand to the mare, which shyly sniffed it.

Hesitantly, Elizabeth barely touched the mare’s neck. Darcy took her hand in his, and with entwined fingers, they petted the horse affectionately.

“William, she is the most beautiful horse I ever saw! Except Thunder, of course…” Darcy laughed, and Mr. Colton covered a smile with his hand.

“She is more beautiful than Thunder, which is expected as she is a lady,” Darcy said.

“If I may intervene, Spirit is truly remarkable. If Mrs. Darcy decides to keep her, I am sure she will have no cause to repine.”

“Who could possibly not want her? I only wonder if I will be worthy of her qualities; I am not at all a good rider,” she confessed; then her face suddenly coloured as she noticed Darcy’s hidden smile. Walter Colton was certain that Mrs. Darcy blushed from modesty, a trait he greatly admired in the new mistress of Pemberley.

“Excellent,” Darcy replied. “I am certain you will get along wonderfully with Spirit.”

“Should I prepare her?”

“No, thank you, Walter. We shall not ride today—tomorrow perhaps.”

Elizabeth remained near the mare, petting her gently, and Darcy needed to call her name twice before she finally left the horse. Eventually, they resumed their places in the phaeton, and Elizabeth, impromptu, leaned towards her husband and started to kiss him. He immediately entered her playfulness, but she withdrew only an instant later.

“Oh, I do not want to be seen by anyone. I just wished to thank you for your kind generosity; I am not certain I deserve all these—”

“My love, I am hardly as generous as you say just because I offered you a horse. Mrs. Darcy needed one; it cannot be otherwise. And speaking of that, I unpardonably forgot to show you the Darcy jewels, which belong to you now.”

She held his arm tightly then leaned against his shoulder. “There is no hurry… As you said, I will have plenty of time to see them later. But Spirit—oh, she is beautiful. I already love her and cannot wait to start riding her.”

“For someone who does not like horses much, you are quite excited, Mrs. Darcy,” he said laughing. “We shall start the riding lessons tomorrow. I am very glad you like Spirit.”The phaeton glided along the path at a steady pace. While the beauty of the land opened to their view, with rapture and deep admiration, Elizabeth became accustomed to her new home, guided by her husband.

Darcy told her that his steward had scheduled an introduction to all their tenants in a week’s time during an informal party at Pemberley. He briefly informed her about each family on his estate while she listened with complete enchantment and intense curiosity. At one point, he showed her the road to Lambton—the small town where Mrs. Gardiner grew up—with the promise that they would visit it soon. From time to time, they stepped down so she could touch the grass, the flowers and the trees, and he took every opportunity to claim a kiss or steal a caress. However, while her delight was obvious and her happiness made her face glow, it was not difficult for Darcy to notice that a trace of worry and uneasiness shadowed Elizabeth’s eyes. He inquired about the reason for her preoccupation, and she only hesitated a moment before replying, her eyes meeting his.

“Until today, I did not understand what it meant to be the mistress of Pemberley. Everything is so beautiful, yet so overwhelming, that I cannot but wonder—again—whether I will rise to such high expectations.”

“My love, are you teasing me? How can you doubt yourself when I trust you so completely? I know Pemberley can seem impressive with all its wealth and grandeur—”

“Oh, but this is not what troubles me, my love. However impressive your fortune might be, that is not what makes me wonder and worry but the responsibilities attached to the master and mistress. You speak with so much passion about your legacy, about all the people who depend on you… I can hardly imagine how difficult it must have been for you to be in charge of everything at such a young age. Lord Matlock praised your skills so many times, but now I understand his meaning. I shall do everything in my power to bear my share of responsibilities, but you know I was not prepared for this. Neither my knowledge nor my experience are at such a high level.”

“Perhaps not, but do you truly believe other women are more prepared? Had I married the daughter of an earl, who had lived all her life in luxury, would she have been more prepared for the responsibilities of a large estate? Even more, do you believe she would have even worried about such thing? The fact that you are so preoccupied with your duties is the best proof that you will be the perfect mistress for Pemberley. I have not the slightest doubt or concern. If you want to learn something, I shall be happy to teach you.”

“Thank you, my love,” she replied, laying her head against his shoulder. “Your trust is what matters most to me. I want to learn everything you want to teach me.”

The ride continued for another couple of hours, with more and unexpected beauties revealed to Elizabeth’s curious eyes. When they returned to the house, it was already late in the afternoon. Mrs. Reynolds seemed displeased that they had been out so long without “anything to eat or drink properly in such hot weather,” and she hurried to inform them that dinner would be ready in no time.

Unlike the previous evening when nerves and fatigue prevented her really enjoying the meal, Elizabeth was now ravenous and eager to taste the rich dishes that were served. Mrs. Reynolds inquired whether Mrs. Darcy was pleased with the courses and had any special requests for the next day. Elizabeth assured her that she had rarely had anything so tasty, and she declared she had nothing more to wish for.

Soon after dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy returned to their rooms, whilst downstairs the reports about the new mistress grew more favourable with every hour.

As they waited for the servants to prepare their baths, Darcy turned to his wife. “Tomorrow morning I will order the largest bath tub that can be found—one to easily accommodate two persons,” he whispered, obviously amused by his wife’s sudden blush, her incredulous expression and the slight trembling of her hands.