My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey Into Love Everlasting (38 page)

"Well, that was rather anticlimactic," Richard said to Darcy a half hour later as they mounted their horses for the ride back to Pemberley.

"Disappointed?"

Richard shrugged. "Somewhat. I haven't shot anyone in ages. I was looking forward to it."

Darcy laughed. "Please do not tell Elizabeth you were hoping for that sort of action, or she may forbid you assisting me in the future."

"Only if you promise that the next time will be a bit more exciting. I didn't even work up a sweat."

"I shall do my best, cousin."

H
ARDLY BEFORE EITHER LIZZY or Darcy knew it, October was ushered in and the planned second wedding loomed. Truthfully they had no serious disagreements regarding the reaffirming of their vows in the Pemberley Chapel. In fact, both would have happily planned and concluded what was essentially desired to be a simple, intimate affair within days of returning home from their seaside holiday. Lizzy theatrically teased by performing the wedding march with exaggerated waddling and thrusting her stomach out as far as possible. However, she honestly had no moral conflict with exchanging vows in a holy sanctuary with her husband, gravid state or no.

Only two elements gave them pause and delayed the exchange.

One: Georgiana, upon hearing the news, burst forth with schemes and expectations regarding everything from the gown to the flowers to the guest list. Initially both the bride and groom were flummoxed as they saw the cozy, understated affair they envisioned turning into an event. They managed to rein in the more extravagant ideas Georgiana invented, the white doves being a bit too much even for the romantic Darcy, but her enthusiasm was contagious, especially to the fore-noted hopelessly maudlin groom. Even the generally pragmatic Lizzy had to admit that a new gown was desirable.

Second: Lizzy and Darcy realized that whether modest or ostentatious, having as many family members as feasible around to witness the celebration was a pleasing prospect.

For these reasons Lizzy did lean toward waiting until after the baby was born, thinking that then her parents and Kitty would be visiting as well as the Bingleys settled nearby. Darcy pointed out that they could not count on Dr. Darcy still being in England. The truth is, he intoned with all the logic at his disposal, there would necessarily be several members of the family busy elsewhere no matter when they scheduled it, and he stubbornly persisted in his assertion that the ritual take place as soon as possible. The ultimate point of the ceremony was to please his burning need to wed in the Darcy family church.

This latter fact so moved Lizzy that she could not refuse his heart's desire had she wished it. She was well aware of the fact that the vast majority of women would be fortunate to find a man who longed to wed them once, let alone twice! The relationship they now shared meant she wholly comprehended how important being married in the Pemberley Chapel was to him. Therefore, October twelve had been set as the date.

George was in residence and Richard was an added bonus highly pleasing to them both. The elder Fitzwilliams were at Rivallain, as were Jonathan and Priscilla. A hastily scribbled note delivered on the morning of the seventh from Hasberry announced that the Bingleys had arrived the day before. Lizzy was ecstatic. She desired for them to be present but had not expected them as their last communique had alluded to a late October relocation. Within minutes of reading the note Lizzy rose, stating the intent to drive to Hasberry immediately. Darcy leapt to intercept her midway to the door.

"You are absolutely not driving in your condition!"

"William! That is unfair! I am perfectly capable of handling the curricle. I drove it just three days ago to Lambton!"

"Lambton is less than five miles away and a well traveled road. Hasberry is nearly fifteen and partially desolate. It is not a matter of you being unable to handle the carriage, love, as I know you proficient."

"Then why..." Her voice caught in a sob, Darcy gathering her into a firm embrace.

"Please placate my overprotectiveness just this once. I would worry so. Allow me a compromise: I shall send one of the grooms with a letter the moment you pen one and insist he tarry pending a reply."

In this way they received confirmation of attendance from the Bingleys before the day was over. That same afternoon Madame du Loire delivered Lizzy's gown for the final fitting, and word reached Darcy that the jeweler had finished the ring. All was set in motion for the renewal of their vows.

October twelfth dawned crisp and cool, but cloudless and brightly sunny. Darcy woke with tingles of excitement racing through his body nearly as intense as on the morning of their official wedding day. Naturally there were a vast number of differences. On November twenty-eighth of 1816 he had barely slept a wink, dreams plagued with alternating enchanting visions of his glorious fiancee gliding toward him at the altar with dreadful images of the same glorious fiancee fading away in some horrible manner. His nervousness all throughout the morning had been extreme; he was at times virtually ill from the tension.

However, the greatest difference was that on this wedding day he woke with the luscious softness of his wife's body curled in his arms, knowing with blissful conviction that he would not be waiting until late in the evening to make love with her. With this delicious thought premier, he lightly kissed Lizzy's shoulder and commenced gossamer caresses over downy flesh.

"I believe we have erred, Mr. Darcy," she whispered sleepily.

"In what respect?" Kisses deepening along her neck.

"It is bad luck to espy the bride prior to the wedding, so I am told."

"I shall keep my eyes closed."

Lizzy giggled, turning abruptly and forcefully flipping him onto his back. With a grace truly astonishing for a woman eight months pregnant, she was astride his thighs and had his arms pinned to the sides before he took a breath. Despite his surprise both eyes were tightly shut, laughter escaping as her lips descended onto his.

She bestowed nibbling kisses and teasing suckles along his neck for several rapturous minutes before murmuring, "It is getting quite difficult to bend over, my lover. Your son insists on occupying all available space including a portion of my lung cavity, I believe. Typical Darcy, determined and insatiable."

"I have no idea to what you refer, Mrs. Darcy."

Lizzy lifted slightly, both to inhale deeply and to gaze upon her handsome spouse's face. She smiled at his pretend haughtiness and sealed eyes, thick lashes lying beautifully on stubbly cheeks. With elbows resting on his solid upper chest, she tenderly stroked her fingertips over his unshaven jaws.

"Open your eyes, Fitzwilliam," she whispered.

He obeyed, love radiating forth as hands initiated their adoring journey over her velvet knees and thighs. Passion rose naturally, neither consciously encouraging the rampant excitement nor able to halt the surging tide had they wanted to.

"I love you." The hush was broken simultaneously by low voices expressing an emotion tangible and critical to survival. Individual hearts no longer independent of the other; beats in synchrony and the impetus for each subsequent stroke. Skin as familiar to probing fingertips as the flesh covering their own body, yet never unscathed by the merest brushing glance.

Lizzy leaned to capture parted and waiting lips, the kiss serious with intent. Oh, the sweetness! How blissful a kiss with the one you love. Lips tingling, blood rushing, heat escalating, moisture shared, air of life mingling, and senses reeling from the intimacy.

Lizzy's lengthy tresses fell as a veil over Darcy's arm where he caressed one silky arm and neck. "God, how I love you," she exclaimed, trailing additional declarations between hard kisses all about his flushed face.

Lost in the sensations, Darcy's eyes slid closed in ecstasy. Their bodies surging together, buried deep physically and spiritually. Hoarse moans and guttural groans were unleashed as the excitement coalesced and burst forth through every nerve and cell, spines stiffening simultaneously with hands clenching hands. Eternal joy expressed in the most elemental manner.

"I love you, William!"

"I love you, Elizabeth!"

Lizzy lifted slightly, inhaling deeply and gazing upon her husband. Never was he more attractive than after they made love. His fair skin flushed, noble brow moist, lush lips ruddy, firm chest heaving, and pulse pounding in his throat. Yet it was not the readily visible signs of his pleasure that moved her the most. Rather it was the glow of utter elation and peace that suffused his countenance, eyes shining with total satiation, and mouth smiling with transcendent happiness and devotion. She did not require a mirror to know that her mien reflected the same as she could feel the gushing emotions through and on her skin.

Eventually he untangled his fingers from hers, tenderly grasping arms, and pulled her onto the bed beside him, instantly enveloping and burying his face between her breasts. "I would die without you, Elizabeth," he mumbled. "I fear my heart would cease to beat. Words do not exist in the English language to convey how deeply I love you. You are my life and breath, my very soul. Thank you for today."

Lizzy smiled, stroking through his thick hair. She had no need to reply, his articulations precisely stating her heart. The heart that belonged wholly to him and survived in him. All too soon they would need to rise and part for the day's scheduled event. For now they reveled in their sweet communion, allowing senses to be restored to normalcy at a gradual rate. Softly they caressed, speaking of love and marriage and children and Pemberley until the clock insisted they leave their bed and begin preparations for their second wedding.

Approximately a mile west from Pemberley Manor, along the avenue that connected to the main road leading to Lambton, nestled a small cluster of buildings amid a shallow valley in the midst of which stood Pemberley Chapel. The accompanying structures primarily consisted of resident dwellings for Pemberley workers in addition to a handful of simple business establishments. The tiny hamlet did not have a proper name, traditionally referred to as Pemberley Village or just the Village. It existed for the sole purpose of providing the most basic necessities for the tenants of Pemberley so as to avoid traveling the additional miles to Lambton during a busy day, and as a central meeting place for socializing. A modest assembly hall was located across from the church, and the orphanage was situated on the northern edge of the settlement.

For most Sundays during the warm months the Darcys walked to the chapel for services. Today, however, they would not only travel by carriage but would travel separately. Once parted for their dressing rooms, they adhered to the time-honored custom of remaining secreted apart until reconnecting inside the sanctuary.