Mr. Darcy and His Wife
Georgiana had the highest opinion in the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened with an astonishment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive manner of talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in a herself a respect which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in her way. By Elizabeth's instructions she began to comprehend that a woman may take liberties with her husband, which a brother will not always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself.
Fitzwilliam, Georgiana, and Elizabeth Darcy all lived a comfortable and pleasant life together at Pemberley, and in the years since Darcy and Elizabeth's marriage, two daughters had been born to bring even more warmth to the home. Jane was the oldest little girl and already the more sensible at only five years of age, and her sister Charlotte was a beautiful, sweet child but full of mischief and always requiring the supervision of someone older to keep her out of danger. Georgiana loved being an aunt to the girls, and she adored them as much as Elizabeth did. Having the genuine feminine companionship of Elizabeth as well as the laughter and energy the children supplied, had brought to Georgiana a kind of fulfillment she had never known in life, and after nearly six years, she could not imagine what she might ever conceive would be worth separating from it.
Of course, life will always convince us of what we cannot imagine is possible somewhere along the line, and it just so happened that a particular friend, whom Georgiana respected almost as much as she respected her brother, was the person to turn her head and meet the challenge her mind presented. Georgiana had known Colonel Fitzwilliam all her life, and their relationship with one another was so constant and natural, that neither could really tell when friendship ended and matrimony began. It was a sensible and happy union, and Darcy could not have been more pleased to see Georgiana as well looked after as she would be with his respected friend.
Although Darcy and Elizabeth knew that Georgiana and the colonel were not far away, their physical absence left a sort of quiet emptiness that could be felt any moment Jane and Charlotte were not running about the house. Elizabeth felt the loss almost immediately and knew how she would miss having her dear friend with her at all times, for she had never in her life been without the company of another woman, but, being strong and sensible, Elizabeth did her best to remain happy for Georgiana's sake as well as for her husband who had felt the loss also and in his own way. They did not speak much of it, but one night or so after Georgiana had been married, Elizabeth was thinking on the subject while she lay quietly next to her husband in bed.
"Might you be… I mean, are you very sorry that Georgiana has married?" Elizabeth had delicately asked, reflecting her own saddened heart in the tone of the question. "You have always been close, and I am sure you must miss her."
Darcy smiled softly at his wife, understanding her desire to express the loss. "Of course I shall miss her," he said, "but I am not sorry to see her happily married, for she deserves that happiness, and it could not have been better placed. I can rest at ease in the knowledge that she will be well taken care of. I will not deny though, that in truth I cannot help feeling a little sorrow to see her so grown up, having known and cared for her so long, but it is a good sorrow, and I shall have to grow used to it when our daughters marry."
Elizabeth was proud with his answer, and it made her glad to know that he felt relief with Georgiana's marriage. "It is wise of you to think ahead," Elizabeth said, smiling warmly back at him.
"I daresay I have had good practice. Georgiana is nearly as much a daughter as a sister, and I have cared for her in the manner of both roles."
"So I have observed," Elizabeth said thoughtfully. "Indeed, she has always shown great respect for you, more so than is usual between a brother and sister, even those as affectionate as you and she... Was it difficult to bring her up, while being her brother also?"
"No, I do not think so, for my demeanor is naturally instructive, and while I did not always appreciate the responsibility of correction, it could not be as difficult for me as it might have been for other, more careless sorts of men. My love for her provoked me to supply her with all she truly required, no matter how pleasant or unpleasant it might have been for myself. Generally, as you can imagine, she was a very good tempered girl, and our time together was most always pleasant."
"I do not recall her ever provoking you to sternness, as even I so often do," Elizabeth mused.
Darcy chuckled at his wife. "No, but that is why you are my wife, and I love you for all your provocation no matter how sternly I respond to it. Between us, it is the game of two people madly in love with each other." He picked up Elizabeth's arm just when he finished speaking and began a trail of soft kisses up to her neck at which she began to giggle.
"Georgiana was not without mischief though, as good as she appears," Darcy said, picking up the subject again once Elizabeth had calmed. "She used to hide my favorite pair of walking boots, which must to you sound trivial, but it would distress me more than losing almost any other item. I would always have to go after her to obtain their location, and while I might have exaggerated being cross a few times (in my own brand of mischief), I never punished her for the action because I knew that all she truly desired was my attention.
"Of course..." he continued, recalling a memory. "There was one instance that she took them after we had suffered a rare argument when I had denied her permission to go abroad with a family I could not trust and did not approve of. To repay me in kind, I suppose, she gave my boots to my dog, who made a meal of them, and I was forced to purchase a new pair that (laugh if you must) never pleased me as much as the original. I did punish her that time, for the wickedness of her sentiment but not for the action itself (despite the extreme annoyance I felt by it). A spirit of revenge is an ugly thing in a young girl, and I knew it had to be corrected lest it be allowed to grow into something worse."
"Poor Georgiana," Elizabeth said softly. "You are so grave when you speak of her correction that I cannot help feeling sympathy for her."
"As I have observed you to be a wise mother who does not hesitate to correct her own children when required, I shall not consider the remark ill-placed. I must confess I am still saddened by the loss of those boots, and were it not for the good character I strive to uphold, Georgiana's punishment would have been far harsher simply for my grief."
Acting in her odd nature, for Elizabeth did not always take Darcy to be as serious as he appeared, she laughed at him. "Boots, William? That is what it takes to bring you close to sin?"
Darcy was rarely very serious with Elizabeth, always ready to respond to her teasing by giving her even more to tease him about. He growled playfully and pounced upon his wife, rolling over so that his body was over hers, an arm cradling her while the other hand brushed the disturbed hair from her face. "I can think of someone else who brings me close to sin," he whispered devilishly.
Elizabeth brought herself up to kiss him, and as she pulled away, she whispered, "It is no longer sin if we are married."
"So, I have permission then, to do this," Darcy remarked as he kissed Elizabeth far down her neck and towards her breasts.
Elizabeth shuddered in pleasure. "Well, you certainly have my permission, Mr. Darcy."
And thus, the verbal discussion had ended between the two, and the language of love in its physical sense was communicated through the night instead. Elizabeth did not pick up the subject after that, and continued to deal with the loss of her companion in her own way. She had been busy with her children, and she was still, and she kept her focus on them as much as she could in the hours she was not alone with her husband. She had visitors during the day as well, and it was impossible for her to be too lonely overall.
There were times, however, when the absence affected her worse than others. Whenever Darcy went abroad for business matters, Elizabeth felt the full loss of her companion. With the children to look after, Elizabeth could not be expected to accompany Darcy, and any night spent alone wore on her in the manner it does to a woman who thrives on intimate company, as most members of the sex do.
One evening, Darcy had just returned from London and had come to tell Elizabeth that he had planned to go for a walk to settle his mind. He had found her sewing in the drawing room, the girls on the floor at her feet, and they all rushed up to greet him as they always did after he had been away. After a moment, Elizabeth began to send the girls to bed, at which point Darcy told her that he wished to walk for a while and was not sure when he might come to bed himself.
Elizabeth's immediate disappointment was rather marked, for she had missed him more than usual, and she could not help feeling somewhat slighted that he did not wish to be with her on his first night back. "Must you tonight, Will? Are you not already exhausted by the travel of London? Perhaps you should have been away longer if you have not already had your fill," she said a little coldly.
Darcy was not too surprised by her disappointment, but he had hoped for the opposite. "I am sorry, my love, but I must walk to clear my head, and travel has not given me a moment's repose. Tomorrow, we shall do whatever you like."
Elizabeth simply sighed and went away to take the girls to bed. After the task was complete, she returned to the drawing room with a huff and dropped into a chair, and if you were not looking closely, you would not catch the hint of the smile on her lips and assume she was as angry as her posture suggested. However, she could not be too angry, for she had a plan already in place to secure her husband's attention.
She waited patiently, her fingers a little too excited to do her sewing properly, and as she expected, Darcy reappeared in the room.
"Elizabeth, have you seen my walking boots? It is rather odd to have lost them, but it appears that I have... Unless you know where they may be?"
"Yes, I do know," Elizabeth answered quickly, without looking up at him.
Darcy did not respond for a moment, expecting Elizabeth to tell him where they had gone and assuming there was some sensible reason for their absence. When she did not speak, he stepped forward and observed her peculiar manner before asking, "Will you tell me then?"
"Of course not, dear. Why would one hide a thing in the first place if they were simply going to reveal its location when asked?"
"You have hidden them?" Darcy asked with surprise. Elizabeth did not respond, and Darcy at first was puzzled, but after a moment of pondering he began to understand his wife's odd behavior and decided that women possessed many similarities as a sex. His wife merely required his attention, and he would always supply her with whatever she required.
"And what shall I do that will persuade you to tell me where they are, Elizabeth?" he asked without a hint of impatience, only genuine curiosity.
"I shall not tell you," Elizabeth returned, continuing to busy herself with her needle and thread. "You have decided to leave me alone, and therefore you do not deserve to know."
Darcy was amused now with his wife's antics, and she portrayed at the moment a sort of anger which is often very attractive to a man. "Well, Mrs. Darcy," he said, playing at his own anger, "there are many methods of persuasion. I can think of what you deserve."
"Can you indeed?" Elizabeth said mockingly. "I am sure I deserve a great many things, but there is nothing I can imagine that will make me change my mind. I wonder what you think will alter my decision."
"Perhaps I will kiss you first," he said quickly.
"And if I still do not respond, what is your second method of persuasion?"
"Well..." he paused, gauging his wife and considering his response before he chose to speak it. "Your backside has been wanting for a smacking, my dear, and it may now be the time to oblige you."
Elizabeth was a little surprised that he had jumped to smacking so quickly, though it was true she had wondered if she would ever seriously provoke him to such types of correction. Given the particular nature of their relationship, she never believed he would find it necessary, but she had thought about it from time to time in the midst of their arguments and during their games. In this same sort of pretense, she pretended to be more shocked than she actually was by his remark and made a show of dropping her needle work. "You would not dare. I know you wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?" he said with a chuckle as he paced up to her.
Elizabeth's heartbeat quickened, and her breath became shallow as she observed his stature and all the things she found so physically attractive about him. He was as handsome as ever with the glint of laughter in his deeply set eyes as he played the game she had laid out for him. In Elizabeth's eyes were reflected a mix of laughter, insecurity, and pure attraction. Darcy could see immediately how much she had wanted him, and he cursed himself for choosing to neglect her. Now she had made it clear that he would not do so, even at the cost of making him angry, and so he would give her a little anger to even the score.
Darcy simply held out his hand for her, and when she took it, he quickly pulled her out of her chair, picked her up, and carried her to their bedchamber. She remained silent and did not protest, a little too unsure of what to expect at this moment. Darcy was enjoying himself as he set her down and saw he had her captive, and that she had to wait for him to make the next move. It was not very often he could be ahead of Elizabeth, for her wit was unparalleled, even for a man as sharp as Fitzwilliam Darcy.
With a devilish grin, he deftly unfastened her dress as he had learned how to do and tossed her body, which was now covered only with her undermost garments, over his lap. Still, Elizabeth did not protest as he brought his hand to her bottom with a resounding smack. Darcy was prepared to stop immediately if she showed any sign of real distress, but when she did not, he simply brought his hand down again and again, in a light and playful sort of way.
Elizabeth began to moan, but it was not in a painful kind of way, and Darcy felt his manhood stir in response to the feminine utterance. That carnal part of him was unlocked by a desire to keep Elizabeth right where he had her, and it drove him to continue. The playful smacking then began to intensify, and Elizabeth began to feel an uncomfortable heat in the flesh of her backside. It was not a sensation she was altogether unfamiliar with (having been subjected to the impatient discipline of her mother at one time of her life), but at the moment it did confuse her. It had made sense to her that her husband's light smacks would excite her, but she did not expect to find the pleasure increased by pain.
The intensity grew to a point that neither could resist the other any longer. As soon as Darcy had freed his wife, she wrapped herself around him and began to kiss him passionately. He returned in kind and as they caressed, he whispered, "Is this what you wanted, my love? Is this what you missed?"
Elizabeth gave no answer but only removed the remainder of her garments and continued to meld herself to his touch. Darcy followed her example and they made the most passionate love they had ever had, until they found themselves exhausted with the pleasure and physically incapable of pursuing more. Elizabeth laid against Darcy's chest, breathing heavily as he stroked her to calm her, in his own state of bliss.
"I am sorry you had to trick me into doing what I ought," he said after a moment. "Can you forgive me for neglecting you, darling?"
Elizabeth sighed contentedly, then chuckled softly before she spoke. "Can you forgive me for hiding your boots under the bed?"
They both laughed heartily at the silly situation, and Darcy did not regret skipping his walk for a moment. He would always be an imperfect man, but he had learned now to take better care of his wife, and he did so from then on. Their games had found a new element, and though it resulted in more children than they had ever intended to have, it kept them happy and in love with another.
THE END
