Author's Note:
Hi, guys! Thank you for all your reviews! I'm glad you liked the way Lord Brooke's storyline ended. I really struggled to find a balance between what I thought was right and what I thought was realistic in Regency times. Most of you are satisfied, so I'm glad!
Now we are back to Pemberley! This chapter is kind of domestic as we get used to normal life and routine again. Still, I hope you like it. There are some sexy times at the end of this chapter. It's very short and nothing too graphic, compared to chapters 2 and 7, but still, I thought I should warn you.
Stay safe!
Jen
"As long as no one is disrespectful, they can think whatever they like. Georgie shall be well-received next year, I am sure."
And so, a month after they had arrived to London, the Darcys decided they had had enough of the ton for the time being, and retreated back to the comforts and tranquillity of Pemberley.
20.
The trip back to Pemberley was difficult for Elizabeth. It seemed like a never-ending nightmare. Although spring was approaching, the roads were still covered in snow. The trip to London had not been worse than the trip back to Pemberley, but she had never travelled so much and so often in her life and she was exhausted. By the third and last day of their travels, they were still some distance from Pemberley.
Mr. Darcy looked outside the carriage and saw it was getting dark. He was sitting with his arm around his wife as he watched his son, who was in front of him, looking down worriedly at Elizabeth, who was sitting in between Fitzwilliam and Georgiana. Elizabeth was snuggled into her husband; her head was resting on his chest and he had his arm wrapped around her. She had fallen asleep a long time ago—an hour before Georgiana rested her own head on the window and fell asleep herself—and she was covered with as many rugs as her husband could find.
"How is she?" Lady Anne asked, noting his worry, too.
"Very cold, pale, and exhausted," Fitzwilliam replied. "Father, I think we should stop for the night."
"Yes, I was about to suggest that myself," Mr. Darcy said and hit the roof of the carriage with his walking stick.
As he spoke to the drivers about their destination, Elizabeth woke up.
"Are we home?" she said, rubbing her eyes and trying to sit straight.
"Shh," Fitzwilliam replied and pushed her gently, so she was lying on him again. "We shall stop for the night, but not yet."
"I thought we would reach home today," she said in a groggy voice.
"Not today, my love. You and Georgie are exhausted. Sleep," he kissed her hair. "I will wake you up when we reach the inn."
But he did not wake her up. Georgiana sat straight the moment the carriage stopped at the inn, but Elizabeth was still deeply asleep.
"I do not wish to wake her," Fitzwilliam told Mr. Darcy. "Can you ask for a room for us and let me know so I can carry her inside?"
Mr. Darcy was greatly amused and believed it was not necessary, but he would not tell his son not to pamper his wife, and so he smiled and walked inside the inn. He came back to the carriage to let his son know it was all arranged. He was surprised when Fitzwilliam took his wife in his arms and she did not wake up. So surprised that he grew worried.
"Maybe we should bring a physician," he suggested.
"I think she is just exhausted," Fitzwilliam replied as he walked up the stairs to their room with Elizabeth still in his arms. "If she feels ill tomorrow, we can send a footman to fetch Dr. Johnson from Lambton."
Elizabeth slept in her traveling clothes the whole night—for he did not wish to wake her—and only arose with the first rays of the sun the following day. She sat up so quickly that Fitzwilliam awoke as startled as she was.
"What? Where?" she asked and only relaxed when she saw him next to her. "Oh, Fitzwilliam."
"Were you expecting someone else, my love?" he teased.
"I was... confused. Where are we?" she asked drowsily.
"At the inn. I told you last night we were to make one last stop," he said, reaching out with his hand to bring her closer.
She let him grab her waist and pulled her to him. She could not deny that it was so much warmer, and so she cuddled to his chest.
"I remember now. But I do not remember entering the inn. And why am I wearing my traveling clothes?"
"I carried you inside and I did not wish to wake you up to dress you," he replied and then pulled away to look at her. "You were sleeping so deeply, but you are not pale or cold anymore. Do you feel well, my darling?"
"Yes, I am sorry I fell asleep like that. I was so exhausted."
"'Tis all right, but do you wish for me to fetch a physician?"
"No, no. I was only tired, not ill. I feel perfectly all right today," she replied and he arched an eyebrow in question. "I promise."
And with that promise, they traveled the rest of the way to Pemberley.
Elizabeth was incredibly happy to be back at home. Her trip to London, her introduction to society, the many social engagements and her unfortunate experience had left her exhausted, mentally and physically, but Pemberley was having a healing effect on her body and soul and she felt much better the second she saw its extensive grounds and Mrs. Reynolds' dear face.
It was not that she had little to do. As soon as she was back she resumed all the activities she had been performing when she left. She joined her husband and father-in-law when they spoke of the estate and her mother and Mrs. Reynolds when they spoke of the household. She went riding with her father, took tea with her mother, played with her sister, and talked for hours to her husband. As much as she missed her family, she loved her new life. No matter how many things she had to do during the day, no matter how busy or agitated her routine, she loved having a purpose. She felt Pemberley had become her duty as much as Fitzwilliam's. It would be her legacy and her duty as well as his. And she was not made to be idle. So she could not complain when at night, Fitzwilliam collapsed on top of her and she felt exhaustion and satisfaction in every inch of her body. She stretched out in bed, drained and sleepy, but also deeply fulfilled and pleased, with her skin still tingling from her husband's kisses and caresses, with her heart still pounding from her pleasure. She slept deeply, fatigue, and contentment settling in her bones as she cuddled up into her Fitzwilliam's warm and loving arms. Could her life be any better?
The next day, Mr. Darcy insisted that Fitzwilliam went to resolve a tenant dispute five miles from the manor. Fitzwilliam was surprised at this insistence, for his father usually offered himself to do any work that could ease his son's burden, but he was a dutiful son and so he went without argument. Barely half an hour after his son had left, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were riding in the other direction.
"It was most wicked of you, Father," Elizabeth chuckled, "to send Fitzwilliam away in such a manner."
"I do not wish for you to forget what you have learnt," her father replied. "And since your dear husband will not leave your side if he can help it, he forced me to take such a drastic measure."
"He suspects."
"He does, but I think he will never think you are riding a horse when he is not at home."
"Yes," Elizabeth laughed, "'tis probably not his first guess."
Mr. Darcy turned to her and smiled. "You have learnt much in very little time. Your posture is excellent. I would not believe you could not ride a horse two months ago if I had not seen it with my own eyes."
"You are too kind, Father," she blushed. "I am no horsewoman."
"Perhaps not yet, but soon," he promised.
By dinner time, Elizabeth was falling asleep on her seat. Fitzwilliam kept throwing her worried glances, but she was so drowsy, she noticed nothing. Mr. Darcy knew the cause of his daughter's exhaustion. They had spent many hours today riding and he felt the physical activity himself. He was an active man for his age, but he could not deny that he was not a young lad anymore and he felt his joints complaining. Still, he would not change the pleasant time he spent with his new daughter for anything. He saw it as an opportunity not only to ride but to strengthen the bond he already felt between them. But today... today he felt the consequences of believing he was a man of twenty.
"Elizabeth," Fitzwilliam finally said softly. "Do you wish to retire?"
"What?" she asked, confused.
"You are falling asleep on the table, my dear," Lady Anne smiled at her.
"Oh, I am so sorry."
"Do not apologise," Mr. Darcy said and quickly excused her so Fitzwilliam did not suspect: "You have been working very hard with Fitzwilliam and me and with Anne and Mrs. Reynolds."
"And we learnt a new duet together this morning," Georgiana added.
"If falling asleep on the pianoforte is learning a duet, then I shall give concerts with you soon," Elizabeth chuckled.
"You are working too hard," Fitzwilliam said and stood up. "Come, let us retire early."
"You do not mind?" Elizabeth asked their parents.
"Not at all, my dear," Mr. Darcy replied. "Go and rest."
"Thank you," Elizabeth said and took her husband's hand.
They bid their family goodnight and walked up the stairs to her bedchamber. Elizabeth struggled to keep her eyes open as she lay in bed, waiting for Fitzwilliam. He was surprised when he slipped into bed to find her still awake.
"I thought you would be asleep by now," he whispered, as he lay on his side and gathered her into his arms.
She snuggled closer to him as she replied:
"I wanted to wait for you."
She started kissing his neck and sliding her hand down his chest.
"Oh, no, my love," he said, catching her hand and bringing it back to his waist. "You shall not seduce me tonight."
"Is that a challenge, Mr. Darcy?" she smirked.
"No," he replied. "I know I would lose if you persist with such intent. You are far too tempting and my self-restraint is almost non-existent when it comes to you. But you are exhausted, darling, and I have kept you up too many nights considering how hard you are working. I am sorry I was so selfish."
"Selfish?" she startled. "I do not remember being displeased, nor do I remember you being selfish," she smiled wickedly and whispered in his ear as seductively as she could: "when it comes to give and receive pleasure."
"For the love of God, do not speak so," he groaned but tightened his hands on her back.
She was exhausted, bone-tired, and half asleep, but she also burned for him. She could not deny that she enjoyed tempting him. Perhaps it was mean of her, but he had always enjoyed being seduced as much as she enjoyed doing the seducing. It felt incredibly powerful to be so desired and lately, she desired him more each day as her confidence grew. It was a burning need in her belly, a feeling of emptiness, a pull. Her appetite was out of control. Her appetite for him... and for food, now that she thought about it. But she supposed it was only natural considering the amount of physical activity she did each day.
She did not dwell on it, however, and merely hooked her leg on his hip and pressed her body to his, feeling his excitement grow.
"Elizabeth," he half complained, half moaned.
"Yes, my love?" she asked innocently, rubbing herself against him.
"Damnation," she heard him mutter lowly and she chuckled. "Temptress," he whispered as he slid her chemise up her thighs until it reached her waist. "Minx," he added, opening the flap of his breeches.
Her laughter died when he joined them together and kept muttering adjectives that started to turn tender. "Beautiful", "loving", "dearest" were some of the words he whispered in her ear as they made love slowly and lazily. "My precious, loveliest wife," was the last thing she heard, for the second after she found her pleasure, sleep took her.
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.