A/N: Behold, my fearless warriors, for the sugar will be injected directly into your bloodstream in this one, and if it is your preference to never read anything about our characters', ahem, more passionate activities, this is your warning. Feel free to skip this chapter.
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A Wicked, White Cravat
by Anton M.
Chapter 12: The First Night
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Dusk was falling when Darcy and Elizabeth arrived at the Darcy townhouse.
It was a wholly different experience for Elizabeth, having so many servants wait on her as Mrs. Darcy, and they had given away their coats when Elizabeth set her eyes on the queue in the hallway formed by the various employees and servants. The set-up was more formal than what Elizabeth was used to, but she did not let her discomfort show. She had, after all, agreed to become the wife of a man of high station, and she accepted the opportunities and obligations her new role would include.
Darcy introduced her to the steward, the butler, the housekeeper, his valet, various footmen and maids, and even the chef had come to greet their new Mistress. Elizabeth was awed by the reception, and did her best to ask after and remember their backgrounds, but there was only one of her and eleven of them.
"I fear you might have to be patient with me as I do my very best to step into my role and remember all your names," Elizabeth said. The men bowed and the women curtsied, and although the servants at Longbourn had always had good manners, Elizabeth felt the weight of her position in their eyes, and she had not yet even set her foot in Pemberley!
Darcy glanced over their employees. "It is no great secret that rumours are about with regards to our engagement and wedding, and although I abhor addressing idle chit-chat, I will put one of them to rest. Mrs. Darcy is not with child, as that would be impossible, and she is a gentleman's daughter, which makes her my equal. I expect you all to treat her as such."
When Darcy's face softened as he smiled at her, Elizabeth became wholly aware of the wonder and whispers among the servants. They had, no doubt, been amazed by the change in their master, but few of them had witnessed them together during dinner on Thursday.
"Mrs. Darcy." The steward, Mr. Fagan, bowed to her. "We have not yet secured a lady's maid for you as we thought you would like to interview the women yourself. However, Miss Leeson, Miss Darcy's lady's maid, has agreed to fill the role for now, if that is acceptable to you."
A dark-haired woman curtsied.
"Will it not take you away from Miss Darcy?" Elizabeth asked.
"It is only temporary and Miss Darcy has agreed. If you are accepting of any possible slight delay in my availability, I would be happy to fill the role."
Elizabeth, feeling bad for how scared the woman looked, smiled. "I admit I come from a family of many sisters who have shared a lady's maid before, and I do not have many requirements for such a role other than some assistance and a fair treatment of everyone. I am sure you shall do admirably."
After a slight pause during which the servants appeared to be rather less scared and more hopeful of their new mistress, Darcy bowed to the group.
"Thank you all. You are dismissed."
The whispers and mumbling became undeniable as most of them headed downstairs, but Elizabeth considered it a rather natural occurrence and paid no particular attention to it. She hoped to get to know them with time, and there were so many tasks and decisions before her that she hoped for ample opportunities to familiarise herself with the staff.
Mrs. Parsons, the housekeeper, had stayed behind, and the keys by her waist jingled as she stepped in front of the newlyweds.
"I fear the room for Mrs. Darcy is not ready yet, sir," she said. "We did not expect you until next Monday, you see. Would you like the footmen to take Mrs. Darcy's luggage to one of the guest bedrooms?"
The footmen had also stayed behind, waiting by the door.
Darcy had forgotten the matter entirely, and met Elizabeth's eyes.
"Would you be so kind as to give us five minutes?"
Mrs. Parson's curtsied and left.
Darcy had almost forgotten how beautiful his wife looked in the light green dress and took a moment to gather himself. Elizabeth stepped in front of him, taking his hands.
"It is no problem for me, sir," she said. "I am not so accustomed to the amenities of your station that I could feel the difference. I do not mind."
"I mind," Darcy said, and his lips formed a grim line. "I will not have you walk upstairs to me under the watchful eyes of the servants. I could never do that to you."
Embarrassed but pleased by his mention of their wedding night, Elizabeth looked at his chest. "Then you shall have to move downstairs, sir."
"That is impossible."
Elizabeth stared at the stubborn man in front of her, her husband, arguing with her as if this hinderance was a real problem.
"Why?"
Darcy shifted and averted his eyes, blushing, dearly hoping that Elizabeth could not guess his thoughts. Truthfully, he had imagined her in his bed so often in the past few months that he could not imagine spending his first night with Elizabeth in a guest bedroom he had barely stepped into.
"I see that you are still a man used to getting his way," Elizabeth said.
His face softened. Regretful of his words, he intended to apologise, but before he could do so, Elizabeth rushed away. He walked after her shuffling muslin, but Elizabeth had gathered the attention of Mrs. Parsons before he could talk to Elizabeth privately.
"What is the state of the Mistress's bedroom, Mrs. Parsons?"
"The wallpapers have been taken down, Ma'am, and all the furniture but a few chairs has been taken away. It is an empty room."
"Is it clean?"
"Of course, Ma'am, cleaned just after the wallpapers were removed."
"Would it be possible to light a fire and prepare a bath in it?"
Mrs. Parsons opened her mouth and immediately closed it, lost for words. A moment later, she nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Then please guide the footmen to take my belongings to the Mistress's bedroom. Thank you."
Mrs. Parsons curtsied and left to follow Elizabeth's orders.
Feeling guilty for causing his wife to suffer such an inconvenience, Darcy rested his hand on her back. "You are right, Elizabeth, I am used to getting my way. I cannot let you stay in that room."
"I think you can," she replied with a sparkle in her eye. "It is no great harm to me to give you this."
He could not tear his eyes off his bride as he stifled his smile.
"But you know me impertinent enough to know that, when it matters, I will fight your way with my words, and sometimes, I dare say I will win."
She bit her lip when she smiled, and Darcy took a quick look around before stealing a kiss. He was in awe of his wife, and dearly anticipated her challenging his stubborn ways.
Elizabeth went to the mistress's bedroom to freshen up and find a bourdaloue to relieve herself. The new fire was just starting to gain momentum, but for now, the room was relatively chilly.
The room had already been improved by the lack of unfit furniture, and the tightly placed wooden slats, now grey from age, had been revealed on the walls. It was so empty it echoed when she walked.
Just a moment after her observation, a knock on her door signified the arrival of a single table with a mirror carried by footmen, and Elizabeth felt like it was all too much hassle for their temporary solution, but she did not argue.
After they left, Elizabeth took a moment to sit by her two suitcases and a trousseau. She was tired from travels but too much in awe of the role she was to get used to to feel like she wanted to rest. Two new dresses were laid out to her on an armchair, no doubt made to her measurements by (or by the orders of) Georgiana's dressmaker Mrs. Ramsbury, but tonight, Elizabeth felt like she could not possibly choose to wear anything but her light green dress, however unprecedented her choice.
When Miss Leeson joined her, Elizabeth only asked for her help in re-adjusting her hair. The lady's maid helped Elizabeth remove the various pins in it, letting her hair fall out of its chignon and revealing the length.
"Mrs. Darcy!" Miss Leeson exclaimed in wonder. "Your hair is so long! It is beautiful."
Elizabeth smiled at her in the mirror. "Thank you, Miss Leeson."
"May I curl it to be looser on the back? I think Mr. Darcy might like that."
Elizabeth paused. "Some other day, perhaps. I would like to surprise him with it later."
The lady's maid listened to Elizabeth's instructions for the types of chignons that hid the true length of her hair well, and chose one that would, once again, hide most of her hair.
Georgiana arrived with Mrs. Annesley by dinnertime. Darcy observed his wife during their first dinner as a wedded couple, her figure, her eyes, the small little tales she shared with her new sister, and the respect she showed towards the servants. Darcy, truthfully, did not follow a single word, except to reassure her that she could drink the water next to dinner, if she so chose, for it was brought from the springs of Pemberley. He had insisted on delivering the water from Pemberley when Georgiana was younger, but now, they had all grown accustomed to having pure water available as if they had never left Pemberley.
Darcy found himself endlessly disappointed when the ladies chose to play the piano in the drawing room. His wife, apparently, had more manners than he did, for if it were up to him, he would have thrown her over his shoulder and carried her to his bedroom.
As they were walking in the hallway, Elizabeth slid her hand in Darcy's and leaned close to his ear. "One could level a house with how grim your mouth is, William."
Darcy relaxed, squeezing her hand and enjoying her attention. A part of him was worried that Elizabeth feared the night ahead enough to postpone it, especially now that her room, in its current state, did not even have a bed. Had he made her feel like she had no choice but to come to him? Frowning, he realised that he had done exactly that, and he did not know how to soothe her worries.
As Elizabeth and Georgiana played the piano, laughing together when harmony was lost, Darcy agonised over the evening, impatient to have Elizabeth only for himself to love, but also anxious that she had been forced into coming to him for the night. Darcy sometimes caught his sister looking at him, deep in thought, but his imagined reasons for her attention still bothered him enough not to dwell on it.
When the night ended and they had said good night to Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley, Darcy asked his valet and Elizabeth's lady's maid to enter the respective bedrooms before he stopped Elizabeth from entering.
"I fear I… I did not realise that I was giving you no choice. Should you wish, you must know that you are free to sleep in the guest bedroom, if you have no desire to… visit me."
He almost choked on his last words, but he meant them, and when Elizabeth licked her lips, thinking through his words, he stood in agony, afraid that she would actually use the chance to escape him. He felt that he would not recover from such a choice without an explanation.
"Would it make you feel better if one of the guest bedrooms were made ready for me, just in case?"
Surprising even himself, he nodded.
"I shall ask Miss Leeson to let Sally know to do so."
He gave her a kiss that was kept brief by the promise of more.
It was only when he entered his bedroom that he realised he had not asked for reassurance that she was visiting him, and now his anticipation was replaced by worry that he would not see her tonight. But she had said just in case, so he allowed himself to hope for her knock on his door.
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Elizabeth had a warm bath but did not wet her hair. Her lady's maid helped her into her white, simple nightgown, and brushed her hair. Elizabeth, apparently, looked nervous enough that Miss Leeson squeezed her shoulder in reassurance before she left.
With flutters in her stomach, Elizabeth gently knocked on her husbands door. At his permission, she entered. His bedroom was sparsely decorated but not spartan, with light blue wallpaper, dark oak dressers and a four-poster bed so high that the light curtains in the corners, rather than making it feel cramped, felt like a whimsical afterthought.
Darcy sat up, sliding his legs on the floor while his hands still held The Times that he had been reading.
"I can come back if it is not a good time."
"No!" he said, a little too loud, folding and setting down the newspaper as he stood. His eyes ran over her nightgown and hair in such a way as to make her feel self-conscious, and she could not deny the intensity in his eyes. He took a step forward, clearing his throat, hesitating.
"I… never thought I would see you like this," he whispered, as if talking louder would dispel the awe of the moment.
Elizabeth felt shy under his gaze. She felt quite naked in her white nightgown for Darcy was wearing a black silk banyan robe over his, but she nevertheless got to admire the chest hair peeking out from under the nightgown.
"Perhaps I should've worn a robe—"
At the prospect of his bride adding clothes rather than removing them, Darcy's robe landed on the chair by the corner almost quicker than she realised he had removed it, and he blushed when she let out a small laugh. He tucked her hair behind her ear and caressed the side of her face.
"Your hair…" he said, never allowed to see a woman's hair in its natural state.
Elizabeth, eyes twinkling, said, "If you like that, wait until you see…" She turned around, and revealed that most of her hair almost reached her lower back. She wiped the hair in front of her, turning back to her husband, and grinned. It covered her stomach, and there was a lot of it.
Darcy gaped, speechless, eyes following her every move. He reached out to hold her hair, and Elizabeth put her hand on his chest.
"I am amazed that you can put it up in the first place," he said.
"It takes some practice. Do you approve?" she asked, witnessing his answer but eager to hear it. Darcy surrounded her with his arms and pulled her into a heated kiss. He gripped her nightgown in his hand behind her, and Elizabeth felt exhilarated and embarrassed by how much she could feel her husband against her. He had a strong, warm body, and his wide shoulders were not just an illusion given by the coats he wore.
He slid his open palm behind her neck and gently gripped the hair he so admired. His teeth tugged at her lip, and he breathed through her mouth as he pushed her against his bed. She laughed. Not wanting to allow an inch of space between them, Darcy climbed beside her and lowered his head against hers, savouring her taste and scent. His hand travelled underneath her nightgown to rest on her soft rear, which he squeezed for he had never imagined how soft a woman could be. Elizabeth arched against him, and it was her low hum that brought him back to earth.
He sat back as if stung, leaving Elizabeth breathless and confused.
"I'm sorry," he said, avoiding her eyes. "Please forgive me. "
Elizabeth blinked, sitting up on her knees and catching her breath. She scooted closer to him, taking his hand in hers, and put her chin on his shoulder. Gently, she asked, "What's wrong?"
"I want to do right by you," he replied. "I don't want to treat you like a common rake. I did not mean to just push you against the bed and—" He stopped himself, turning his head so that his lips touched her temple. He whispered, "Are you all right?"
"I am perfect," Elizabeth replied, resting her hand on top of his shoulder. "I am more than perfect."
"But you are a maid, and in spite of what it looks like, I can restrain myself and take things slow to make sure that you are comfortable."
She smiled before kissing his shoulder.
"Do you know what is to happen?" he asked.
Elizabeth shifted so that she could sit in front of him.
"Yes," she replied, making sure to see his eyes.
He took her hand and played with her fingers.
"And are you scared?"
"Not at all," she answered, caressing the side of his face and feeling the stubble that had started to grow. "I am, perhaps, a more well-read woman than most, and I trust you. I will tell you if anything you do hurts me beyond what is inevitable."
She paused. Now that he had so gently tended to her thoughts and feelings, she had to know. "I know that there are men who prefer their wife to be… less expressive, in bed. Is this your desire?"
A low grumble rose from his chest. "You are referring to the men who feel emasculated by a wife who dares show her desire?"
When Elizabeth nodded, Darcy gripped the back of her neck and pulled her forehead against his. He whispered, "You are not wanton for wanting to please your husband in the bedroom. Please, never think that. I want you exactly as you are."
She admired the unrestrained man before her, but before he could lean into a kiss, Elizabeth rolled away from her husband and sat on the other side of the bed. Her eyes twinkling, she sat on her palms and smiled at him.
"May I show you the kind of advice I received from my well-meaning relatives for our wedding night?"
Feeling the loss of her body against his but intrigued with the sparkle in her eyes, Darcy nodded.
Elizabeth stood up, ruffling her nightgown to cover her legs, and lay on the other side of the bed with her eyes closed and arms on her sides.
Darcy waited.
When nothing happened for several seconds, Elizabeth opened one eye to see him. They both laughed as she sat up.
"My poor father," Elizabeth said, still grinning. "I dearly hope my mother gave me advice that she thought you would wish, rather than her own experience."
Elizabeth stood up, feeling hot and cold and exhilarated, all at once. She could never have imagined that she could be so bold as to do this, but the intensity of her husband's gaze gave her courage.
"My aunt, however, gave me a different kind of advice."
Darcy's eyes widened as she started to unbutton her nightgown, and when she reached her navel, she let it fall around her legs and stood naked in front of him.
Darcy did not dare think or blink or breathe as she walked toward him, more beautiful than anyone he could ever have made up in his dreams, and he watched, in a daze, as she straddled his lap and took hold of the back of his neck. The ends of her hair brushed against his stomach and his thighs. She looked shy but determined, and held her face a fraction of an inch away from his. Darcy could feel her soft breasts against his chest.
"Is this pleasing to you?" she asked with a small smile.
He could take it no longer.
In a swift move, he lifted her to lie in the centre of the bed and buried his face in her neck. "Elizabeth," he said, running his rough hands tenderly against her skin, desperate to feel all of her softness and warmth. He dipped his head for a kiss before hovering over her face, panting, eyes intense and pleading.
"May I please you?"
She nodded, speechless, and his warm, wet lips and his fingers coaxed feelings from her that she had read about but not experienced, at least not to this extent, and she attempted to hide her face on the side of a pillow but Darcy shifted closer, his fingers still doing unmentionable things to her. He pressed his lips against hers. "Please," he whispered. "I want to see you."
She forgot to feel self-conscious when he was making her feel so delightful, but he continued even after she thought she was done, and it was quite a while later when she came down from a high so delicious she did not know up from sideways, and when Darcy pressed some of his weight on top of her, leaning in for a kiss, she did not know why his lips, covered in her wetness, did not feel crass, or how she could've possibly loved him as much as she did.
"You are so beautiful," he said against her cheek. "Dear Lord, what did I do to deserve you?"
"Everything," she whispered, relishing his weight on her. She could feel him against her hip, and squeezed his behind simply because she could now reach it. Darcy groaned and laughed against her ear.
"Why are you still wearing your nightgown?"
Elizabeth helped him tear it off. She did not anticipate the effect his hairy chest would have on her, and she nudged him to lie on his back. She shifted to be on top of him before she brushed aside the hair that clung to his forehead.
Their skin stuck together, warm, sweaty and wonderful, and Elizabeth discovered that she delighted in it.
"Unlike you, I fear I have no clue what I am doing," she said, sheepishly. "But I know the basics. Please be patient with me."
Darcy was so taken aback by her words and actions that he could not have stopped her even if he wanted to.
She pressed her lips against his chest as he had done to her, trailing kisses lower while observing his reactions. Her hair slid and brushed against his skin, and when she held his cock in her hand, he twitched. He was wild with desire.
Elizabeth found it to be a peculiar creature, funny-looking and vulnerable, and yet powerful. She was curious to test the things she had read, and put it in her mouth.
Darcy let out a sharp breath, convinced that, if he was dreaming, he'd rather never wake up.
Pleased with his reaction, Elizabeth continued her exploration, and he warned her to get off but she was so taken with the power she had over him that he finished in her mouth before she had realised what had happened. She scooted closer to the water and drank some.
"Not my favourite taste," she said, and Darcy did not know whether he wanted to laugh or die from embarrassment. "But I shall get used to it."
Still blushing, Darcy pulled her body flush against his, and she pushed away her hair before resting her chin on his shoulder.
"You do not have to— I would never make you—"
"I know," she replied with a shy smile. "I want to." She observed his sleepy-looking eyes, his body quite limp, and pressed featherlight kisses against his skin. "I cannot yet please you as well you please me, but if you are patient, I would like to learn."
She looked up at him with her wide eyes, and Darcy was sure he felt his heart burst into flames.
He rolled her over, pinning her body underneath him and making sure that not an inch of her skin was left uncovered. He surrounded her shoulders with his elbows, trapping her underneath him, and lowered his head so that their noses were touching. His breath mixed with hers, and he did not look away from her eyes. "You are perfect," he said. "I could not be any more pleased with you."
Elizabeth bit her lip, averting her eyes.
"You do not think it… improper?"
"Elizabeth." His chest shook against hers as he laughed. "I know that you have been taught for twenty years that to be together with a man alone, as we are, is the wickedest evil, but we are married. You are my wife. It must be a poor bastard indeed who would think that to do what you did for the man you love is an act of impropriety."
She gave him a small smile when a thought struck Darcy.
"How did you even—" he begun, clearing his throat. "How did you know to do that?"
Elizabeth shut her eyes and covered her cheeks with her hands in embarrassment, for her hands were pinned in such a way that that's as far as she could move them.
"I dare say you will not like my answer," she whispered.
Darcy had to suppress his fear, for he dearly hoped that he was the first and only man to be on the receiving end of her giving pleasure to a man in such a way.
He lowered his head to kiss her nose. Elizabeth admired his lips, so very near, blowing warm air against her face as he breathed.
"I have the pocketbook Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies from 1793."
Darcy let out a relieved laugh as he lowered his face even closer to hers. He slid one of his hands to her waist, sliding it lower along the curve of her body, and she hummed when he squeezed her side.
He whispered against her ear, "And how did a country gentleman's daughter come upon such a scandalous piece of writing?"
His breath gave her goosebumps, but before she could answer, he pressed a kiss against her hair and asked, "Did you steal it?"
"No!" she replied, overwhelmed with his warm breath against her skin and the smile in his voice. "I found it on the drawing room floor after a ball in Meryton. I did not think much of it, and I even thought I would ask who it belonged to, but once I realised its contents I knew I could not."
He grinned against her cheek, delighted by the idea that his innocent bride had read a book that was, in spite of its contents, intended for the eyes of a person who only had their hands for enjoyment.
"And was there any particular description that you would wish to experience?"
Her entire body became hot, and Darcy was awed and overwhelmed by her reaction. He licked his lips and pressed them against hers, tugging and smiling, wishing to be closer.
"Elizabeth, you may do anything you wish to do to me," he whispered against her ear. "Anything. I am yours."
She shivered. Her smile was embarrassed but there was an undertone of desire and need in her eyes, and Darcy's kisses became more urgent when she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. He pulled at her lips with his teeth, gently, and enjoyed the softness and warmth of her mouth, her taste and scent and little gasps against him. His hand explored her chest, relishing her curves, and when he slid his hand between her legs, he almost fell against her. He had not expected her to be so ready.
"Please," she whispered, arching against him and pulling his neck to kiss him. With whatever fraction of willpower he had left, he begun to pleasure her with his fingers, but Elizabeth pulled him on top of herself so decisively and whispered his name with such sweetness and desire that, Lord help him, he did not have an inch of restraint left to keep himself from her.
He pressed his lips against hers, as an apology, reassurance, and love, and as slowly as he could muster, he became one with her. She closed her eyes.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, holding himself back and desperate to make sure that she was not injured. When she cupped his cheek and looked at him with wonder in her eyes, whispering his name with a smile, he pushed deeper. Nothing in the world had ever felt as sweet as being one with Elizabeth, and he savoured her every reaction.
He could not help but press himself closer and deeper, kissing and touching her, and her hum of pleasure was so sweet that he was determined to repeat whatever he had done to elicit it. When he was close, he pressed his cheek against hers, breathing his words of love against her ear, and he thrust quicker as he lost himself in her.
Breathless, he slowed down and collapsed on top of Elizabeth. She let out a sharp breath, and Darcy attempted to move away but she wrapped herself around him. It was unimaginable pleasure, being with Elizabeth, and Darcy wanted nothing else in the world but to keep himself inside her. Surely, he could never let her go.
Brushing hair away from her forehead, he kissed her, unable to stifle his smile, and Elizabeth squeezed his neck but grimaced, just slightly. Immediately, Darcy moved to rest his weight on his elbow.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, pressing his cheek against hers. "Please forgive me. I did not—"
"It is not that — You're lying on my hair."
Her head turned at awkward angle from the tugging before Darcy shifted himself and placed her hair on the pillow.
"I'm sorry."
Elizabeth, now free from the tugging, slid her fingers along his cheek and smiled. She squeezed him closer.
Relieved that she seemed fine, Darcy laughed lightly against her mouth, but their kiss was made impossible by all of their happiness.
"I want to make you feel as delighted with me as I am with you," Elizabeth said against his mouth.
"Impossible," Darcy whispered. "I do not think anyone has ever been as delighted with a person as I am with you."
He did not know which God he should worship for not letting him marry some stiff woman of the ton, the kind he had thought would match his station and rank, who was raised to have such propriety that Elizabeth's expression of a limp, lifeless wife would have been a reality.
Darcy moved to kiss Elizabeth, but it was slow and without rush. It all felt so new and exciting, and yet, nothing had ever felt as natural to him than having Elizabeth naked in his arms, warm and soft and the best thing that ever happened to him.
"Am I crushing you?" he asked between kisses, and Elizabeth shook her head, determined to keep him against her for a while longer. Moments of kissing and touches lead to travelling hands and mouths until she felt him stir against her. This time, he took his time and focused on her reactions when he was not kissing any inch of skin available to him, and he took his cues from her to learn what best pleased her. Soon, she shook underneath him before he, once again, picked up his pace and attached his lips against hers as he pulsed inside of her. He covered her with his body, feeling spent and sleepy and altogether too happy to contain any of it. Nothing had ever felt as intimate and right as making love to Elizabeth.
"I love you," he whispered against her shoulder, pressing his lips against it, and his breathing evened out not even a minute after.
She had not expected him to fall asleep so quickly, but she did not mind, for they had a lifetime of learning to get to know each other.
Elizabeth snuck away to drink some water and relieve herself before she added logs to the fireplace and pulled a duvet over them both. She settled by his side. He hummed when she returned to him, wrapping her by his side, but he did not wake.
Quietly, she observed her husband. His sharp features gave him an intimidating air, but seeing him now, asleep against her, mouth slightly parted and his face as relaxed as she had ever seen it, she felt entirely too blessed to be the only person to witness him so content and vulnerable.
She started drawing lazy circles against his stomach but stopped when he stirred. He blinked and moved to face her.
"I did not mean to fall asleep."
"Does that happen often after you… finish?"
"Yes." He coloured up, clearing his throat. "Quite often."
Elizabeth hummed, staring at her fingers on his hairy chest. She had not given much thought to his past, but he was a man of high station who had spent perhaps a few years in the company of another bachelor, Mr. Bingley. The likelihood that other women had experienced what Elizabeth had experienced with Darcy, was quite a bit higher than she was comfortable with, but it did not do well to dwell on it for neither of them could change anything about the past.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No," she replied, blowing air on his chest. "I am well."
"Is there something troubling you?"
She continued to draw circles on his skin, humming, unsure if she should voice her thoughts.
"Please tell me what is troubling you."
She paused before asking, "Do you have any children, William?"
He paled and sat up so quickly Elizabeth rubbed her neck, for she had been resting on his shoulder.
"What?"
"I know that… great men… can… use services. I am just curious if you have any children."
"No," he whispered, almost offended that she had asked. "Of course not."
"And you are sure? I would much rather know than find out later."
"Of course I am sure!"
Elizabeth grimaced at his tone, and Darcy softened at the sight. He scooted close to the headboard, pulled Elizabeth in his lap, and held her to his chest. "Elizabeth," he whispered, running his hand through her hair as he rested his forehead against her temple. "I have never used those services, precisely for the reason you mention."
"But you are clearly experienced," she replied. "Did you ever use anyone else or—"
"Elizabeth." He let out a small laugh. "It is a testament to your kindness that you think so, but I have never, nor will I ever, dishonour my family in such a way, and having you here, with me, as we are, I am more delighted than ever that I made that decision."
"But how do you know so much about… how to please me?"
He laughed. "I have spent ten seasons among the ton, among the tipsy or drunk men who, without women present, reveal far more intimate details than what any lady should ever know. I merely paid attention to the men I respected."
"You mean, today, with me, you were…"
"Just as much as you, my love." He caressed her hair and tilted her chin up. The shimmer in her eyes would have brought him to his knees if he had been standing. He kissed her forehead and tucked her head under his chin, pressing small kisses along her hair and cherishing her warmth. Elizabeth rubbed his back with the pads of her fingers, smiling.
"I cannot put into words how relieved I am."
"Me neither." Darcy tilted her head upwards, touching her nose with his. "I could not have shared this with anyone but you, I am sure of it. I cannot imagine taking love away from… what we shared, and it being as full of…" He motioned with his arms, lost for words to describe the wonder and pleasure and intimacy they shared. "—everything."
He lay down, pulling Elizabeth with him, and she smiled at the tenderness in his voice.
"I love you," she whispered before kissing his hairy chest, and Darcy wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly, confident that nobody had ever been as content and full of love as he was at that moment.
They fell asleep, and if they did wake up when the firewood had became embers, and came together again, and if they did fall asleep with him inside her only to continue when he stirred in the wee hours of the morning, it was but a taste of Darcy's experience of loving Elizabeth, and he revelled in it. Once they were spent, the fire had died and night skies were turning lighter. Darcy hummed sleepily against Elizabeth's ear, and she was drawing circles against his cheek with her fingertips.
"William?"
He hummed, showing his attention.
"I see why this activity is reserved for marriage," Elizabeth said.
"Why?"
"Now that I have tasted it, it is quite impossible to keep myself away."
She earned a sleepy but hearty laugh, and Darcy pinned her under him to make sure she knew exactly how precious she was to him. She laughed in surprise, but her laughter dwindled to a hum when his hands begun to explore her skin.
It was a night too delightful for words.
: :
A/N: Thank you all for sharing your thoughts and feelings as they are my only reward for writing. You're the best!