Author's Note:
Hi, guys!
Thank you so much for your comments! I want to answer each one of them, but I don't think I could! I'll try to answer a few things though. Mario, thank you for noticing that HUGE mistake. I do know that London is South of Longbourn. I actually spent the two or three months it took for me to write this story staring at a map of England, but for some reason I was thinking of Rosings when I wrote that. You know, when Lady Catherine made a stop in London before going to Hertfordshire? I was thinking about that. Idk why. I fixed it, though, so thank you! A Guest asked about my name and my sister's. Yes, we are both Argentinian, though they are not American names. Jennifer is the cornish variation of Welsh Guinevere and Elizabeth comes from Hebrew (correct me if I'm wrong, though). We are not all called Juan and María here like in the movies (:P). And to my second Guest, I am not completely sure how many chapters are left, but since you asked, I tried to check and I was surprised to see that we're closer to the finish line that I thought! I am posting longer chapters and every day, so I think this chapter and maybe two more? I mean, this is the longest chapter I've posted so far! The good thing is that you'll make it to your deadline!
Now, about this chapter. We have some fluff, some family bonding, and (WARNING AND SPOILER ALERT) a talk about sex. If you're JA purists, you might want to skip Mr. Darcy and Fitzwilliam's talk. As I've said before, I try to keep it as Regency as possible, but sex still existed back then (duh) and I thought a father-son conversation was due. It's not explicit, but it's still about sex. More notes at the end!
"I would like to believe it. Yes, I think I do believe it. Lizzy never met her. She cannot know that even the way she moves reminds me of my mother. Have you seen her raise her eyebrow and smile when she is about to be impertinent? Or tilt her head when she is about to tease? Those were all my mother's gestures. No, I am convinced. Lizzy was her gift."
25.
The following fortnight seemed to be eternal for Fitzwilliam. He and Elizabeth had little time to be together, for her mother always needed her opinion about something for the wedding, and no time alone at all. He was growing frustrated and the only thing that helped his anxiety was knowing that in little more than a sennight, she would be with him forever. The Fitzwilliams and the Gardiners were coming in the next few days, and preparations had also began at Netherfield. Jane and Bingley would leave soon after the wedding breakfast to his London home, for they both knew they would have no privacy in Hertfordshire. They would then return to Netherfield for a few days before heading to Pemberley for Christmas.
"My brother says he will arrive at Netherfield this Monday afternoon," Lady Anne said as she folded her letter.
"That is good news. They will spend a whole sennight here," Fitzwilliam commented.
"Yes, they will return to London after the wedding breakfast."
"Mama," Georgiana said softly, "Mary and Kitty asked if I could visit them at Longbourn after Fitzwilliam and Lizzy are married. Would you allow it?"
"I do not see why not. You, George?"
"If the Bennets agree, you may visit them."
"Oh, thank you! Mrs. Bennet invited me herself. Kitty said she will be moving to Lizzy's bedchamber and Mary to Jane's. It must be hard to pack your whole life to move so far away."
"They are right next door, silly," Fitzwilliam teased.
"Oh, you are spending too much time with Elizabeth!" Georgiana chuckled.
"You think? I believe the opposite is true."
"I was referring to Lizzy. Jane will not be so far, but Lizzy will be counties away at Pemberley."
"Will she?" Lady Anne asked.
"What do you mean?" Georgiana asked.
"I meant to ask your brother if they will live at Pemberley," she replied and then turned to her son. "You never said."
Fitzwilliam smiled. "Yes, Mother. We will live at Pemberley."
"Oh, I am so happy!" Lady Anne stood up and embraced him.
"I do not understand," Georgiana said. "Why would you not?"
"Georgie," Fitzwilliam began. "Elizabeth might have wanted her own home where she could be mistress."
"But she does not?" Georgiana asked.
"No. She says she does not care much about it."
"Was that what she said?" Mr. Darcy asked.
"Well, not exactly. She said... she said she will live wherever I live. She might have liked being mistress, but she would not want me to leave Pemberley, and you. And she said she is used to living with many people and as Pemberley is so large, we could have as much or as little privacy as we want."
Mr. Darcy laughed. "She is right about that. We could not see each other in days if we wanted."
"Exactly. We will still spend a sennight at Darcy House, but then we will settle permanently at Pemberley. But, Mother, if she does change her mind in a few months or years, we will move."
"I know. I will have to keep you both very happy so you never leave," she said.
Fitzwilliam smiled and agreed.
It was a very happy day when Lord Matlock arrived at Netherfield and was told that the whole Bennet family would be joining them for dinner. He had not seen Mr. Bennet in so long, he was not sure he would recognise him. They had seen each other a few times after university, but not since Mr. Bennet had inherited. The Bennet family had been surprised to learn that Mr. Bennet had been friends with an earl, but he had never cared much about society and their class divisions—something his eldest daughters had inherited from him. He would not go around Meryton claiming he had once being friends with an earl. Still, Mrs. Bennet had been enraged at learning she could have bragged about her husband's friend—a lord, indeed!—but had never been told.
"Oh, you delight in vexing me!" she had exclaimed, and though vexing her had not been Mr. Bennet's motive, he could not help but being satisfied with the unintended result.
Upon the Bennets' arrival, Lord Matlock smiled and walked directly to the only man that could be Mr. Bennet.
"Bennet? Is that you? You have grown terribly old, I am afraid."
Mr. Bennet laughed and replied: "You are not a young lad yourself."
"Indeed, I am not!" His Lordship said.
He looked at the way his nephew had gone straight for Miss Elizabeth and now held her hand and raised it to his lips. He had known, since he first saw them together, that they were both very much in love. Although he wished her dowry would bring something to the Darcys, he could not deny that she had brought him something more valuable than a fortune. And he could not fault her connections, for he had never cared about them when he met Mr. Bennet.
Lord Matlock believed himself to be an open minded and liberal man—at least, as much as a someone in his position could ever be. But his friendship with Mr. Bennet had been strange from the very beginning. He had never intended to befriend a country gentleman, but Bennet's lack of interest in society and fortune was exactly what made Lord Matlock wish to approach him. Bennet had made no effort to befriend or even speak to him, and as the son and only heir to an earl, he could not help but seek any degree of true friendship he could find. Their common interests soon drew them closer. They were both scholars—although he had to admit that Bennet's love for the written word was stronger than his—and they both enjoyed chess more than fencing, and debate more than hunting. Bennet's teasing and impertinent banter made the young Viscount feel more at ease, for many of his so-called friends dared not oppose him or mock him in any way. His new friend respected him, but no more than he would another fellow student. Strangely, he liked that.
But the years had gone by. Fathers died, estates were inherited, marriages were contracted, and children were born. And as responsibilities piled, their letters stopped doing so. He did not know when had been the last one. A long time ago, surely. He had wondered a few times if it would be strange to write to him after so long, and so he never did. He would not deny that he was happy that fate had seen fit for them to resume their friendship.
Anne told him—after he told her this story—that it was Miss Elizabeth's lack of interest in Fitzwilliam that had first ignited his own interest. He had been greatly amused that the daughter had inherited so much of her father's character and that the same characteristic that had drawn his attention, had also drawn Fitzwilliam's in a very different way.
It was with this recollections of many years of friendship that he approached the Bennets.
"Tell me," he said. "Are all these beautiful ladies your daughters? I know Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, but are these other three also sisters?"
Mrs. Bennet blushed and was strangely silent. Oh, to be so highly complimented by an earl!
Her husband, however, laughed.
"This is my wife, Mrs. Francis Bennet," he said as she curtsied. "My Jane and Lizzy, you have met; and these are Mary and Kitty. My youngest, Lydia, is married."
"Nice to meet you," he bowed. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Matlock; and my sons, Lord Ashton, and Colonel Fitzwilliam."
The dinner passed in amiable conversation while the two families learned more of each other and Mr. Bennet and Lord Matlock found they had many years of conversation to make up for. Afterwards, they retired to the music room where the ladies played for the company. As Georgiana was playing now, Elizabeth sat with her family.
"It shall be strange to call you Matlock," Mr. Bennet said to his old friend. He turned to Lord Ashton and added: "When your father and I were at Cambridge, the title of Viscount was his, naturally, and so I called him Ashton. I hope you shall forgive me if it slips from time to time."
Lord Ashton smiled. "It is only logical, Mr. Bennet. I shall take no offence. My father has told us much about you."
"Oh, no," Mr. Bennet chuckled. "It shall also be strange to address you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, after spending the last few weeks calling my future son Fitzwilliam."
"We are a complicated family, Sir, and we are not contented unless we are confusing others," the Colonel smiled. "To avoid confusion, you may call me Richard. Or better yet, you can follow my lead, and call my cousin 'Fitz.'"
"Absolutely not," Fitzwilliam complained. "I already detest it when you do, though I have stopped trying to correct you."
"You can also shorten it to 'William,' but that does not bother him as much, and therefore, is not as fun," Richard continued.
"Or you may pronounce the whole name. Since it is also your own name it cannot be so difficult to remember," Fitzwilliam smiled to his cousin who was already laughing, before he turned to his future father. "You may call that devil Richard if you wish, Mr. Bennet, or you may shorten mine to William. I can tolerate William."
Mr. Bennet's mirth was impossible to contain now as he chuckled, delighted in finding something new to tease Fitzwilliam with.
"Do they always behave like this, Lady Anne?" Elizabeth grinned.
"I know, Miss Elizabeth," Lady Anne smiled back at her. "They are children when they are together. Richard is a bad influence."
"Dearest Aunt!" Richard complained. "You wound me," he said putting a hand on his chest.
"You see?" Lady Anne added.
"I should have received a warning. Do you allow them to be out together in polite society?" she laughed teasingly.
"Barely, Miss Elizabeth," Lady Matlock said. "We shall teach you how to keep them in their best behaviour."
"And now my own mother!" Richard continued with his theatrical reactions.
"I think we have embarrassed the boys enough for now," Lord Matlock laughed. "Tell me, Bennet, your beautiful daughter here, who shall soon be my niece," Lord Matlock smiled at Elizabeth, "told me you have been telling horrible stories of her childhood to embarrass her in front of her new family."
"Oh, no, my lord! Pray, do not remind him!"
"Let me think..." Mr. Bennet said. "Oh, yes!"
"Oh, my," Elizabeth sighed.
Fitzwilliam smiled at her and secretly—or so he thought—held her hand.
"Do you remember, Fitzwilliam, when I told you about the time she ran away to join the gypsies?"
"Papa! You told him that?!"
"Of course, it might be useful information if you decide to run away again."
Elizabeth laughed. "I was seven years old, Papa."
"Still, he might wish to look at the top of the trees," Mr. Bennet said and then turned to the Fitzwilliams. "You see, Lizzy was a great tree climber as a child. She was so good, indeed, that I believe she grew a bit arrogant with her skill."
"Are you about to tell them about the kitten?"
"Indeed, my love. I see you remember. One day—I believe she was around nine—she saw a small kitten at the top of the highest tree near Longbourn. Instead of calling the gardiner, a footman, or even her own father—as any less confident girl would have done—she decided she was a good enough climber to get the kitten herself. She climbed to the very top of the tree and held the kitten safely in her arms, but she had not taken into account that she was now sitting at the highest tree she had ever climbed with her hands now occupied."
"In my defense, I did have a plan. I was to tuck the kitten into my petticoats," Elizabeth argued.
"And why did you not?" Lord Matlock asked, amused.
"The kitten was not as cooperative to his saviour as I had envisioned," she replied and everyone laughed.
"I, again, realised that I was missing a daughter—it was always the same one, mind you—and so I walked the gardens, looking up to the trees, instead of down. And amidst my search for my wayward child, I heard her talking to someone before I even saw her."
"I was talking to the kitten," Elizabeth explained. "And trying to determine which one of us was scared the most. Climbing down without him was not an option and I knew Papa would come looking for me sooner or later."
"And I did find her, though it took two footmen to get her and the kitten down safely."
"It was not so bad, Miss Elizabeth," Richard smiled. "It was very noble of you, actually."
"Thank you, Colonel, though I failed miserably."
"You shall have to do better, Mr. Bennet, and tell us a story that does paint her in a bad light," he continued.
"You shall hear nothing of the kind, sir!" Elizabeth smiled. "For I have not done anything malicious. Silly, I will admit; mischievous, perhaps, but not immoral."
"Well..." Mr. Bennet trailed off.
"Papa!"
Her father laughed at her indignation.
"You know, Colonel," he said. "I have a sweet tooth, but when one has five little girls, one does not get anything, for it is gone before you even know it. But I used to keep a box in my study; one full of chocolates. I found out one day that they were disappearing faster than I seemed to be eating them."
"A chocolate thief!" Richard exclaimed. "Truly evil, Miss Elizabeth."
Elizabeth laughed. "And I thought it was my little secret! You have always known and let me keep at it!"
"Oh, the amusement I got from seeing you running out of my study with chocolate stains in your little face was worth a few pieces of chocolate."
They all laughed before Mr. Bennet asked:
"Have I convinced you, now, Fitzwilliam? Are you willing to sacrifice chocolate?"
"You have only convinced me that I must hide it better than you did," Fitzwilliam smiled.
"Oh, you cannot hide chocolate from me, but you can certainly try," Elizabeth chuckled.
That Wednesday, just a week before the double wedding, Mr. Darcy managed to find some time alone with his son to have an uncomfortable, but necessary, private conversation. Normally, this would be a conversation he would have in his study to ensure the privacy needed, but since he was at Netherfield, he knew the only place where no one would dare enter without invitation was Fitzwilliam's chambers. His own chambers, he had discarded, for his wife was always coming and going, and this was a father-to-son conversation. When he knocked on his son's bedchamber very early in the morning, he found him being dressed by his valet. He was mostly clothed now, for he was wearing breeches, shirt, cravat, and waistcoat, minus his coat and boots.
"Good morning, Father," Fitzwilliam said, looking confused for he always met his father at breakfast.
"Good morning, Fitzwilliam," Mr. Darcy said. "I would like to speak to you, if you can spare some time."
"Of course," he replied and turned to his valet. "That will be all, Rogers. I think I can manage my coat and boots."
"Very well, Master," Rogers bowed. "Call me if you need help."
"Thank you."
Once Rogers had retired, Mr. Darcy sat on a settee in front of his son and let down the book he had brought next to him.
"Is everything all right?" Fitzwilliam asked. "You look serious."
"Everything is fine, but I think it is time we have a conversation."
"What do you mean? We spoke last night."
"No, Fitzwilliam," Mr. Darcy smiled in amusement. "I mean a particular conversation." As Fitzwilliam still looked confused, he added: "You shall be a husband in a week and I thought you might want some advice about your wedding night."
Fitzwilliam finally realised his father's meaning and paled.
"I thought we had already had this conversation when I was fifteen."
"Yes, but that was... My God! That was almost fifteen years ago!" Mr. Darcy shook his head. "How fast time goes by."
"Thirteen years ago, Father."
"Yes, yes, you are right. Still, then, it was more of a warning to be careful than anything else. I hoped you would not need it anytime soon, but now, you surely will." He shifted on his seat before he continued. "I have always given you freedom to... well, do as you wish in that sense. I trusted your sense of responsibility and honour. But the women that you find in the type of places you might have visited are not like your betrothed. Miss Elizabeth is a maiden, and as such, she will be mostly ignorant of what will happen that night. Her mother or her aunt might tell her something, but probably not much. Most likely, she will be told to trust you and follow your lead. You must be deserving of that trust, Fitzwilliam."
"You are wrong, Father," Fitzwilliam said, deciding it was better to be honest, for he truly wanted any advice he might get if it would help Elizabeth. His father was the only one he trusted enough, and felt comfortable enough with, to have this conversation. "I have never visited any of those places."
"You have not?" Mr. Darcy asked surprised. "Do you mean to say that you have never lain with a woman?"
"Yes, that is what I mean. When I was fifteen, you told me of the dangers of lying with a woman who was not your wife. The idea of being forced into marriage—if she were a gentlewoman—or of contracting a disease—if she were not—was unappealing enough, but then, the thought that a Darcy might be born a bastard, that my own flesh and blood could never be given the protection of my name was intolerable to me. And there were other considerations to add to that. First, the fact that I have witnessed your marriage with Mother. I thought it would be disrespectful to my wife. And second, the idea of being anything like Wickham, spreading my seed without a care in the world, is repulsive to me. I spent many years trying to be as different from Wickham as I possibly could. I can safely promise you, Father, that any Darcy born by me will be legitimate."
"I admit I am relieved to hear it," Mr. Darcy said, proudly.
"I shall not deny that I was tempted. You probably will not believe it, but I have received indecent propositions from supposed ladies of the ton."
"I can very well believe it. Some ladies will do anything to have you marry them."
"It was not always that. Some had no need to marry or could not! Widows, married women! I was appalled."
"Apart from being wealthy, Fitzwilliam, you are also young and—since you look so much like me—handsome," he said teasingly and Fitzwilliam could not help but smile. "Believe me, I know what you must have been through. And you should know that some proposals will not stop only because you are married. That will stop the maidens who want to trap you into marriage, but it will do nothing to stop the widows, the married women, and those maidens who would still prefer to be your wealthy mistress than a poor maiden. I hope you remain as strong as you have been, for taking a mistress now would truly be extremely disrespectful to your wife."
"I will keep my vows, Father. I said I have been tempted before, and I was not lying, but I..." he blushed and looked away.
"You can tell me anything, Fitzwilliam. You have acted with honour and so I shall not condemn you for your thoughts alone. You are only human."
"I had never been so tempted as I was by Elizabeth. Almost from the first time I laid eyes on her." He stood up and walked to the window. "I do not wish for you to think I do not love her and that it is only lust, for it is not. At least not only lust, but at the beginning it was. When I did not yet love her, I was extremely tempted to make her an offer that did not include marriage, and at the beginning, I was so arrogant that I thought she might agree, for I considered her too poor and unconnected to reject it. But if she did not accept my hand in marriage, can you imagine what she would have answered if I had made another kind offer?"
"But you did not. Why?"
"I fell in love with her. I respected her to much to disrespect her in such a way. And I realised two things: she also valued herself too much to accept, and poor or not, she is a gentleman's daughter just as Georgiana is. I grew horribly ashamed. I do not believe I would have done it anyway, but I was disgusted with myself for merely thinking it. So I ran away from her, for both our sakes, I thought. I still believed it was only lust and by removing temptation from my sight, I would get over her quickly, which did not happen. There, in London, I realised that it must be more, some kind of infatuation. I had seen more beautiful women before, but they had never tempted me as she did. I went to many balls and assemblies, as you know, trying to forget her. But I realised that the women that had tempted me before, did not anymore. I saw the most beautiful ladies the ton had to offer. They are objectively more beautiful than Elizabeth, but I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even lust, or mere attraction. I was unmoved. And then I saw her again in Kent and the effect she had on me was unbearably overwhelming. My feelings went from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds."
"And then you offered marriage?"
"It was the only outcome I could stand. By then, the idea of offering anything else was unimaginable. I loved her and did not want her as anything else than my wife." He turned around again to face his father. "Father, I do not wish for you to think that everything I told you and mother in June was untrue, or that my lust for Elizabeth is stronger than my love for her, for it is not. I love her mind and her heart more than I could ever love her body. If she told me that she will never allow me in her bed, I would still marry her gladly."
"Fitzwilliam, I believe that anyone who has seen you with her cannot doubt your love. It is a good thing to feel desire for one's wife. To have both love and passion in one's marriage is the best thing that can happen to a man. Of course, you cannot be sure that she will be as passionate—"
He was interrupted when his son, with a dreamy smile, said:
"She is."
Mr. Darcy looked horrified. "But you just said... surely you have not anticipated your vows?"
"What?" Fitzwilliam frowned, coming back from his memories. "No, of course not."
"Then?"
"I kissed her. Well, no, I believe she kissed me."
"What?"
"A few days after we got engaged, we were walking in the gardens with Jane and Bingley, when she suddenly took my hand and guided me into a secluded place until I was lost," he smiled as he remembered how mischievous and bold his Elizabeth could be. "There, she said: shall you kiss me or not?"
Mr. Darcy chuckled as Fitzwilliam continued:
"What was I supposed to do? As a gentleman, I am not supposed to take liberties, even if she is my betrothed. But as a gentleman, I must also do what a lady asks of me."
"Of course," Mr. Darcy smiled and shook his head. "Still, a kiss and some hand holding underneath the dinner table," he looked at his blushing son intently, letting him know he had not been subtle, "can be forgiven when the couple is engaged."
"It might not have been only one kiss," Fitzwilliam admitted.
"It does not matter," Mr. Darcy waved his hand, "as long as it is in private. But I cannot believe Bennet was right!"
"What do you mean?"
"One day I was playing chess with Bennet and he asked where you and Miss Elizabeth had gone. I told him that he should not worry, for you were a gentleman and, though you might steal a kiss, would never take advantage of her. He replied that if someone was to take advantage was Miss Elizabeth of you."
Fitzwilliam laughed. "That is what she said: since you do not seem eager to take advantage of me, I thought I would take advantage of you. Those were her words. Mr. Bennet knows his daughter more than I thought."
"So it seems," Mr. Darcy smiled and then signalled for his son to sit in front of him. "Still, I have not spoken yet of what I meant to tell you."
"The differences between experienced women and Elizabeth?"
"Yes. I know now that you will not use experience with others as reference. But you should still know that maidens are told almost nothing. You know the mechanics, at least, Miss Elizabeth might not even know that. She might have heard some gossip from married women, but you know how most marriages are."
"Yes, I always feared entering such a marriage where the two live together but are miles apart, where they find excuses to avoid the other's presence."
"And such a marriage will be unsatisfactory in more ways than one. Love makes love-making better. 'Tis my belief that God had not only procreation in mind, but that He also made it an act of love. Loveless marriages cannot possibly compare. But remember that Miss Elizabeth might not know this. She might fear it, and rely on your judgement."
"I cannot imagine Elizabeth fearing anything, much less me."
"Maybe she will not, but you should assume she might. As I have said, she will trust you and you have to be deserving of that trust."
"How?"
"You have desired her for a long time. I am sure that you will want to retire immediately upon arriving to Darcy House, and you will want to consummate your marriage as fast as possible. You must know by now, that it might take only a kiss for us, men, to be physically ready," he said and judging by Fitzwilliam's blush, he concluded that he did indeed know. "But for women it might take longer."
"How much longer?"
Mr. Darcy smiled. "It depends on her, and you. There is no definite answer to that. But you might help her."
"How?"
"Make her feel safe and relaxed. Do not, ever, hurry her. Let her know that you would never hurt her, and that if she so desires it, you will stop. Tell her, and show her, that you love her and that you only wish to show it. Take your time. Ask her if she is comfortable, if there is anything she wants or needs. Talk to her. Kiss her, and not only on the lips; caress her, and not only her face. Remember that once you are husband and wife, there is nothing you cannot or should not do if you both desire it. You will want to go straight to the main act, but do not. Be gentle and tender, take as long as she needs. The first time might determine the way she will receive you later. If she enjoys herself, you will have a good marriage bed; if she suffers it, because you could not hold yourself back, she might not want you again. And I am sure you would not take her unwillingly."
"Of course not!"
"Then, do not hurry. Remember that the union will be painful for her."
"I do not want her to feel any pain at all!"
"Some pain or discomfort might be impossible to avoid, but how painful depends on you. The longer you kiss and caress her, the longer you reassure her and allow her to accustom herself and relax, the less pain she will feel. If you are lucky, she might be as willing as you, but assume she is not, unless proven different."
"How will I know when she is ready?"
"I think you will know. And if you are not sure..." Mr. Darcy reached for the book he had brought and gave it to him. "This book might help you." Fitzwilliam took the book and was about to open it when his father stopped him. "I want you to read all of it, and soon, so we might speak again before you marry. Some of the things here might astonish you, but remember that you will be husband and wife. Nothing that you both like is prohibited."
Fitzwilliam took the book and nodded.
"Thank you, Father. I will read it."
Mr. Darcy patted his son's back and left him to read.
The next few days went by slowly for Fitzwilliam. He had barely seen Elizabeth, for her mother and Jane spent most of their time with her, planning the weddings, packing more than twenty years of life, and hosting Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and their children. He could not say he spent much time alone. He had Bingley, his parents, his sister, the Fitzwilliams, the Bennets—except for Mrs. Bennet, Jane and Elizabeth—and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in his constant company. He had decided, though, that he would not be bitter for the time he could not spend in Elizabeth's company. Instead, he would use that time to get better acquainted with her family and to strengthen the bonds that were already growing between the two families. He made sure to make Bingley feel as if his family was also Bingley's, for the younger man had little family of his own besides his sisters and an aunt in Scarborough. His sisters would arrive a few days before the wedding—any time now—,but he did not wish for Bingley to feel lonely in any way.
He wondered how he had ever thought that his family and Elizabeth's would not fit together. He was finding out that Mr. Bennet, his father, his uncle, and Mr. Gardiner were already growing to be good friends; his mother and his aunt admired Mrs. Gardiner and were learning that although Mrs. Bennet was loud and excitable, her heart was in the right place. His cousins, Ashton and Richard liked the older men very well and were already fond of Bingley—who would soon be Fitzwilliam's brother. And what seemed like the best change was Georgiana. His little sister admired—almost adored—Elizabeth, and was enjoying the company of all her future sisters. Georgiana, Mary, and Kitty all seemed improved by their friendship. In Georgiana, Mary had found a friend who was also shy and loved music; someone who was sweet, not cruel with her judgement and could even help her improve. Kitty had started following Georgiana the way she had Lydia, but since Georgiana was such a good example, she was growing more mature and sensible than she had ever been. And Georgiana, now in the presence of so many lively girls, was learning to relax and to be more confident. Fitzwilliam was awed and extremely pleased by all of these developments and cursed himself, once again, for ever thinking that he and Elizabeth were not suited. They were perfect for each other and even their families—flawed as they both were—were perfect together. They would make up for each other's deficiencies and learn together.
Fitzwilliam, thanks to the comments constantly made by his parents, also realised that the Bennets might not be as affluent as the Darcys were, but here in Hertfordshire, they were the most prominent family and the leading land owners. Not only Longbourn was bigger and more prosperous than the other estate around—except for Netherfield that had been left inhabited for a long time—but they were also very respected and loved in the area. He remembered the time, a few days ago, when the Darcys had gone to Meryton, guided by Jane and Elizabeth. They had both been so warmly received, not as 'Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth of Longbourn,' but as Miss Jane and Miss Lizzy. Everyone they passed, stopped to give their personal congratulations and to shake the couples' hands. Elizabeth only smiled and said:
"I did tell you that people are more informal and warm here than it is the custom in London."
"You do not mind?" Georgiana asked, unused to be approached so much.
"Not at all. They are all friends and neighbours," Elizabeth explained. "Most of them have known us since we were born."
The Darcys' surprise and amusement only increased when they were given sweets by the elderly man who owned the shop. Both Fitzwilliam and Bingley were told how everyone was happy about their matches, but sad that they would be losing the elder Bennet girls.
He also remembered the first time that the Darcys sat at church, waiting for the service to start, when the Bennets entered, with Mr. Bennet walking ahead followed by Mrs. Bennet, Jane and Elizabeth, and Mary and Kitty. People bowed and greeted them with both respect and affection, especially the girls. The Bennets smiled and greeted everyone, including the Darcys, as they walked straight to the first row to the pew reserved for them. Even the Darcys, wealthier and better connected, were seating a pew behind. Then, Fitzwilliam understood how wrong he had been. He had considered them so below him, and now he saw the same signs of respect he was offered at Lambton directed to the Bennets. His parents glanced at him in such a way, he knew they were thinking the same.
He had been so very wrong that he felt he was now a completely different man for it. He thought the greater the mistake, the greater must the change be. And now, a little over a year after he had set foot in Hertfordshire for the first time, he felt he had grown more in the last fourteen months than in the last five years.
He spent most of his days in this pursuit for family happiness, but every night, he retired extremely early to read more of his father's book. That it was very old, he had no doubt, and he wondered if his grandfather had given it to his father and if he would give it to his own son someday. It was not only that this particular copy of the book was old, but he was also sure that it had been written a long time ago. It seemed to be a translation to English from a strange language he did not recognise. If the language used to describe the act of love was not enough to make him blush, the drawings that accompanied them definitely were. He read about things he had not thought possible or likely to happen. He was particularly interested in the part that detailed female anatomy and he studied—in the same diligent way as he had done at Cambridge—all the body parts that would bring her pleasure. He skipped the section that explained methods to avoid children or disease—for he did not wish to avoid the first and he was sure the second could not happen. He read about different types of intimacies from kisses and caresses to massages and embraces. He read about the uniqueness of every lover and the need for communication. He read, to his surprise, about teasing and games—which he was sure his playful Elizabeth would like in the future when they were more comfortable with each other. He read about the need for acceptance, trust, love, and even laughter on their bed. He read about taking a woman's virginity and how to proceed. Much of it, he had already heard from his father: earn and deserve her trust, do not rush things, be gentle and comforting, move towards openness gradually, interpret her responses and act according to them. By the time he was done reading, he felt he had been enlightened on a subject he had known, apparently, nothing about—a fact he did not intend to hide from his father.
"I have finished it," he told his father one morning in his bedchamber, two days before his wedding. "I see why you only gave it to me a week before my wedding."
If he had been anticipating his wedding before, he could hardly contain himself now. The words, the pictures were too fresh in his mind. Each time he saw a drawing of a naked woman, he could only imagine Elizabeth—a fact that was driving him insane with lust.
"Yes, my own father did the same."
"Is all of it true?"
"What do you mean?"
"Is all that... possible?"
Mr. Darcy laughed. "Well, I have not tried it all."
"Father!" Fitzwilliam blushed. "That was not what I meant. I have been told... by many married men of my acquaintance, usually at White's Club after some drinks, that women..." he said, sighed, and tried again. "That women do not enjoy the act, and merely tolerate it for the sake of their marriage."
"And what type of marriage were those, Fitzwilliam?"
"Arranged ones. I believe they can barely stand each other."
"And, tell me, do you believe that if you were to lie with woman you can hardly tolerate this very night, it would be the same, for both of you, as it would be to lie with Miss Elizabeth?"
"Of course not!"
"Then, there you have your answer. If there is love and respect, and if you care about the woman's feelings, then it can be just as pleasurable for her as it is for you."
"I do not wish for Elizabeth to merely tolerate it."
"Then act accordingly and make sure she enjoys herself."
"By following the book's advice?"
"Yes. I have reason enough to know it works."
"My God, Father!"
Mr. Darcy chuckled before adding:
"There is something else, Fitzwilliam. Ladies are usually raised to believe that they should not enjoy themselves and that if they do, and express it, they would be less respected by their husbands. Make sure she knows you want to bring her pleasure and that you want her to tell you or show you when you do. Tell her that within your chambers, there is nothing to be ashamed of."
"Thank you, Father. I will."
"Is there anything else you wish to ask me?"
"No, I think not."
"Then we better go downstairs for breakfast."
Author's Note:
I watched a conference about masculine sexuality in P&P by Robert Markley a long time ago, and although I don't agree with some of the things he says, it is brilliant, and I do agree with him that Darcy is probably not a virgin, even if he's awkward as hell. He's rich, he's powerful, and it's expected of him. But I think it would be too hypocritical coming from my Darcy, and with the backstory that I wrote for him and his parents. But, I understand if you don't agree. I also don't know how much his father's book would contain accurate information, but I think that an ancient book was probably more accurate than one written during the Regency or worse, the Victorian period. And the Darcys are very open-minded, aren't they? Still, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter!
Stay safe and healthy!
Jen
I do not own any Pride and Prejudice properties, nor do I make any money from the writing of this story.
Characters and situations, created by Jane Austen, are taken from Pride and Prejudice and from the Pride and Prejudice (1995) adaptation created by Simon Langton and distributed by BBC.
This story is released under the GPL/CC BY: verbatim copying and distribution of this entire work are permitted worldwide, without royalty, in any medium, provided attribution is preserved.
