I am happy to announce that my son with autism successfully passed his road test and got his license, and that there are angels among us. My son was very nervous and anxious when driving to take his test, and made two minor flubs on the way there that he would have normally never done, so I was worried when we arrived that he would mess up due to his anxiety, which included the fact that he would be in the car with a stranger.
The parents wait outside on a bench during the test, and after the tester had my son demonstrate that the car's turn signals and brakes worked, the tester came over to talk with me for a minute (something they typically don't do). He asked if my son was very nervous and I told him "Yes, he has autism and has a lot of social anxiety but understands his stuff."
The tester said, "Don't worry, my niece has autism, I know what to do." The tester then got into the car with my son and talked with him for about five minutes before they started the driving test (another thing they typically don't do).
Then they tested for fifteen minutes and when they came back the tester came up to me and said, "He passed. He is a great driver and you did a great job teaching him, Mom." I looked at the scoring sheet after, and there was not a single thing marked wrong, so he did better than both his brother and sister.
My son is so proud and I am, too, but I really have no idea what would have happened if the tester didn't help him calm down first, and wasn't such a kind and patient man. I knew my son was capable, but there are all these barriers out there that don't exist for other people, but simple kindness and patience can make all the difference.
As we enter into the Thanksgiving season, I am so thankful for so many things surrounding my son. All his life, there have been people thinking he could not succeed, but also so many people willing to help and advocate for him, and I am thankful for them all.
Okay, I'll get off my soap box now. If you read all this, thank you.
Elizabeth's POV
26. Fulfilling my Wifely Obligations
After becoming fully a wife, I didn't sleep for a time. I cried a little, for what exactly I did not know. But after a few minutes of this, after my tears had lessened, I stoppered them completely, reminding myself of what Mary had said of me "You are not made for sadness."
Yes, my life had changed completely, and yes, tomorrow it would change some more, with leaving for the country, but I needed to make the best of it, make friends with my new abigail who would arrive on the morrow, do my best to convince her and everyone I would meet that Mr. Darcy and I were in love. I resolved to do well in the situation I now found myself in, and then was able to drift off.
When I awoke, a woman of a similar age to me, with freckles and a kindly face, arose from a low stool I had not noticed before. She said "Good morning Mrs. Darcy. I am Anna Frank, hired to be your personal maid. Should you like a bath today?"
Given the activities of the night before and a lingering ache I still felt as a result, I was quick to agree. Frank told me she would see to the water being warmed and return with my breakfast.
Within five minutes I was eating some porridge with milk and an apple. Frank apologized for such repast explaining, "I am sorry, Madam, for there being nothing better for you than what the servants have been eating."
"It is fine," I told her and indeed it was. It was pleasantly familiar for it we had been eating thin porridge at Longbourn for the past few months, though without any milk and only occasional fruit. I was not sure that my stomach would have been fit for richer food.
Fifteen minutes later, Frank and a manservant brought up a copper bathtub. After six steaming buckets were added to it, I had some eighteen inches to bathe in, which I deemed sufficient. I did not like to burden the servants to do more on my account, especially as short-staffed as they were.
Bath time as Mrs. Darcy was different than I had ever experienced as Miss Elizabeth. I had never bathed in virgin water before, had it so clean and warm. I had never had a servant to scrub at my hair, seen her look scandalized that I opted not to take a bath in my shift.
I lingered in that bath, relished the warm water as I slowly cleansed myself with a square of flannel. Had Frank not been present, I think I might have been tempted to use my own hands to mimic Mr. Darcy's attentions from the night before but, alas, I could not think of any errand upon which to send her away.
Away from my husband, I could admit to greatly enjoying much of our encounter, and if the finale had not resulted in the something more I had hoped for, at least it had not been unpleasant. Mr. Darcy had promised? threatened? constant demands upon my person and I wondered when next I could expect him to visit my chamber and how the next occasion might be the same or different from the night before.
I was curious about the male form, wondered what it might be like to see it in the light of day, what it looked like when we came together. As I thought about what it would be like to see it glide within me, I felt the speed of my breath increase and even with the water sensed an inward wetness like had occurred before.
To calm my most improper thoughts, I considered how different bathing was now that I was Mrs. Darcy. Usually, as far back as I could remember, I bathed myself after Papa, Mamma and Jane. I always tried to bathe quickly as despite Jane's best efforts the water was always cold by the time my turn came and on many occasions I imagine it was cold even before her turn began.
After I finished, new water was brought for my younger sisters (the old being used to water the kitchen garden). Rather than bathing in order of majority, by Mama's decree with the next load of water Lydia got the first bath, followed by Kitty and last Mary.
I had heard that after having Little George that Lydia bathed him after her, and twice the bathwater had been ruined for our other sisters when he shat in the water. I suspected that if he made his water within the tub, nothing was said to them. I shuddered in imagining bathing in that and Frank inquired "Is the water growing too cold, Mrs. Darcy? Should I fetch some more hot water to amend it?"
I politely declined and observing my wrinkled fingertips, opted to get out. Frank wrapped me in flannel and rubbed my hair with another flannel cloth to dry it. She agonized overly long about the three dresses in my trunk and I felt my poverty acutely then. I cheered myself with the thought that given my new station I would soon have more dresses to wear, and they would be made for me alone, never repurposed for me after my younger sisters out grew theirs while I remained small.
Frank had just finished dressing me and had just started combing my half-dry hair when Mrs. Johnson knocked and entered. She greeted me but even through her greeting, I sensed her anxiousness, revealed in the way she shifted from one foot to the other and rubbed her hands.
"What is it Mrs. Johnson?" I asked when she did not reveal the purpose of her visit.
"Oh Mrs. Darcy, I know you are not yet ready for the day, but I thought you would wish to know that Miss Darcy just came home, and another with her besides. She is with Mr. Darcy in the family parlor. I am sure she will understand if you are not ready to greet her yet, but . . ." She rung her hands some more.
"But it is a mistress's duty to see to her guests and those of the household as well. Certainly, I shall be down in a moment."
"I remember where it is," Frank volunteered. "I can help you find the room, Mrs. Darcy, when we are finished here."
Seemingly satisfied, Mrs. Johnson left. The couple of minutes it took to comb through my wavy hair was intolerable, for I very much wished to meet Miss Darcy and see if she was anything like what Mr. Wickham had described. I, myself, twisted my hair up and left as quick as I could, Frank by my side.
Frank was as good as her word and guided me, explaining she had worked in this house seasonally for two years as an upstairs maid when the family was at home. But after that explanation, we both remained quiet.
When we reached the proper door, I did not immediately go in, for a girl who I immediately concluded was Miss Darcy was speaking, and I immediately heard my own name which made me curious indeed. I shooed Frank off and lingered outside, wishing to learn more about the situation into which I would be entering.
I heard as follows:
Miss Darcy asked "Richard, you wanted to marry Miss Bennet, too? Did you declare your intentions first?"
"No, he did not!" I heard Mr. Darcy shout. His voice was unbridled, raw, and I recalled the man who had begun kissing me so feverishly in the carriage.
I had to strain to hear his next words and was not unmoved in hearing his account of how he fell for me against his own will in Hertfordshire. I heard both admiration for me in his tone, and shame that he could not resist my allure, even choosing to call on the Collinses in Kent just for the opportunity of seeing me. While it was in answer to his rivalry with his cousin (as I had concluded that Richard must be Colonel Fitzwilliam's given name), I could not help but believe that he meant every word. I could not remain indifferent when Mr. Darcy declared that after meeting me deliberately on my walks, after one such occasion he determined that he could happily walk beside me all the days of his life.
Yes, there was jealousy in imagining Colonel Fitzwilliam as his rival, but I thrilled in hearing how it was Mr. Darcy himself that insisted his cousin clarify that he could not seriously consider me, and his gladness when he learned the path to pursuing me was clear and then his torment that proceeded his proposal to me.
While Miss Darcy saw romance in all Mr. Darcy did, it was the Colonel who pointed out my husband's previous lack of success, his all too accurate guess that I declared I would never marry Mr. Darcy.
By then I had heard enough and determined that I needed to defend my husband, follow up on my commitment to tell any and all that I had married for the deepest love. However, my hand on the verge on opening the door paused upon hearing Colonel Fitzwilliam's next words:
"Georgiana, I will let you be the neutral arbitrator. Do you not agree that your brother had no superior claim after Miss Bennet rejected him and then a year passed? Remember, he had never expressed his interest in her to me; any hint I had as to his possible feelings was formed from observation. After we left Rosings it was only ever I, who spoke about her. Too, I had not the slightest sense that if he even cared back then, that he cared for her still.
"It was I, after hearing what had befallen her family from Lady Catherine over Easter dinner, only four days ago, not having previously any notion of any calamities that had befallen them, that very evening it was I who declared my intentions to Darcy and John. It was I who talked about my plans to act as quickly as I could to help Miss Bennet and her family. But when I asked for your brother's help, rather than Darcy discussing his interest with me or any plans he might have, he instead tried his best with John to dissuade me from pursuing her based on her unsuitability, and then chose to strike first and steal her away.
"Yes, last year I did warn her off, but that was meant to be a kindness given my position, to keep from hurting her rather than to express a lack of interest. I had no prospects then but what I earned from the cavalry, could not properly support any wife on my own means.
"You and Darcy should know better than anyone, that it has only been only recently that I have gained an expectation, have the option to pursue my heart's desire rather than just be practical, but knowing what befell the Bennets I would have sought to help them regardless, even on my meager income. Do you not believe, Georgiana, that Miss Bennet should have been given a chance to choose between us or to choose no one at all (for I would have helped her the best that I could on the strength of our friendship alone)?"
There was silence for a time and I concluded that if the two of them, Colonel Fitzwilliam was undoubtedly the better man. I felt frustrated and out of sorts that I had ended up married to the man who could not guard his tongue, the selfish, controlling man who deliberately kept his cousin in the dark so that I would marry him.
"I find myself confused and vexed," Georgiana said. "It does seem that Fitz did not act with very much honor towards you, Richard."
I felt like applauding the Colonel's next words which very much matched my own sentiments that I had expressed only the day before. "Do you not understand, Darcy, that Miss Bennet should have been allowed to choose her future, even if she did not choose you?"
Still, I knew I had to intervene, defend the man I was now married to, uphold my end of the bargain by trying to convince everyone that we had married for the deepest love, so I steeled myself, stood as straight as I could and pushed open the door.
I observed just who I had anticipated was in the room but could not then help but look directly at the Colonel. I was grateful that he cared, but I had to make him understand that I needed no champion.
I told him "Colonel Fitzwilliam, I thank you for the compliment of your interest, your desire to give me choices, but rest assured that I chose who I wanted to marry and have married for the deepest love."
I determined to put on the most convincing display that I could and hoped my husband would be intelligent enough to play along. I walked over to Mr. Darcy and placed my hand on his arm. Unfortunately, he appeared confused. I spoke to him as confidently as I could, addressed him as "my dear husband" and asserted myself as his wife, the mistress of all his estates, by requesting an introduction to his sister. I quickly determined that it would be a fine thing to gain her friendship and loyalty, if I could just draw her out, so concentrated all my efforts in such a direction, ignored how the men glared at one another.
I was none-too-pleased to be summarily dismissed, but properly deferred to Mr. Darcy as was expected for any wife to do. But still, there was time for one last show. I tilted my head toward his, hinting that he should kiss my cheek, but Mr. Darcy was unfortunately as obtuse as they come (perhaps even more than Mr. Collins), so I had to spell it out, and in a sort of punishment ruffled his well groomed hair, even giving it a little tug.
In response, his eyes looked at me in a sensuous manner and I had a brief flash of imagining being in my chambers with him once more, pictured myself tugging his head down to where I wanted it to be, urging him to give me further pleasure with his mouth and tongue down below. Before that moment, I had never expected such attentions from my husband, could not think it proper at all to direct my husband in such a manner, yet longed to experience more of it, to see what would happen if he built my pleasure further.
Although neither of us said anything as I maintained my hold on his hair for an instant more before I loosened my hand and let it glide through and away, I felt he sensed something of the direction of my thoughts (or perhaps was simply recalling the night before), for he pressed his lips together and then licked his lips with his tongue. I resisted the impulse to do the same, but my body reacted nevertheless, with a tightening of my belly and a jolt of wetness down below.
As I walked away from him with Georgiana to exit the parlor, I will admit I had trouble attending to her conversation, rather than thinking about Mr. Darcy and wondering whether he would come to me that night when we were staying in an inn on the road to Derbyshire. My mind cleared when a door separated me from Mr. Darcy and I shook my head slightly. I did not understand why my thoughts had taken such a turn.
Although I was tempted to linger outside the door once again and eavesdrop on their conversation, I was sure Miss Darcy would be horrified by such behavior so instead asked, "Do you suppose I might hear you play? I heard previously of your skill, Miss Darcy, from Miss Bingley and your brother."
Miss Darcy shyly agreed and I was pleased enough to be granted the privilege of addressing her by her given name even before she sat down to play (and of course I granted her the same privilege). Oh, it was lovely to hear her talent, see how she came alive and let the song flow through her!
But Georgiana was no selfish performer like Mary had been, seeking praise for each new piece. No, after one piece she insisted on hearing me and then giving me the benefit of her instruction. She was delightful and though I had just met her, I regretted that she would not be with us at Pemberley.
As I worked to make my fingers move as Georgiana bid, I was puzzled that my husband would have ever agreed to an arrangement where he would be cut off from his sister. Did he truly love me so much? Did he love her so little, or not truly appreciate her? I had no answers.
When the men joined us and I learned that Colonel Fitzwilliam wanted us to dine with his parents, I was determined to do all I could to impress them with my suitability and my great love for my husband. I knew nothing of the Earl and Countess of -, however, I was hopeful that they would be as kind as Colonel Fitzwilliam and want the best for the both of us, now that I had married into the family. Perhaps if they thought us a true love match, they would wish to help us.
However, after the Colonel and Georgiana left, I learned from Mr. Darcy that his uncle especially was liable to be rather angry and bitter about his choice. He also told me, "Neither my uncle nor my cousin John, the Baron - are to be trusted. Never stray from my side unless you be in the company of the Countess. Neither of those men would have any compunction in seeking to find out just what tempted me to marry you. I shall not be cuckolded by any man, shall not raise another's son, I should sooner turn you out." He growled, grasping my arm tightly, possessively.
"Have no worry on that account," I hastened to reassure him and he loosened his grip, "I should never voluntarily let another man touch me. I shall depend on you to keep me safe."
"Very well," Mr. Darcy allowed, skimming my bare lower arm with a single finger. I recognized the look in his eyes, wondered if he might forthwith order me to my chambers, show me his vigor with further attentions to my person. The idea was not distasteful but intriguing (although I had no intention of telling him that).
But after that, he was all business, informing me of everything he thought I needed to know about the Earl and his household, educating me about the important personages of the ton. For a laconic man, I was surprised how many details he gave me. It was too much for me to fully retain, but I did my best. After two such hours of this, I gave a single yawn but then did my best to head off any further such displays, to keep my eyelids wide.
I was not sure whether to be pleased Mr. Darcy had noticed, or annoyed at how he expected to dictate to me as if I were a child when he ordered, "Elizabeth, if we are invited to dinner, we shall be up rather late. Go to your chambers and nap."
I gave a nod, but then admitted, "I am not sure if I know how to get there from here." So it was that he ended up escorting me. At my door, Mr. Darcy bent down and pressed a kiss to my cheek before murmuring breathily in my ear, "Am I not to kiss you goodbye every time, my dear wife? Rest well for even after a late evening I may still demand your attentions later, for who could resist such beauty . . ." he dropped his voice down further and added "and such a warm, wet cunny."
I had not heard such a term before, suspected it was a rather ribald and improper one, but the meaning was clear enough. I blushed and fled inside my room. While before, I had thought myself capable of a nap, his last comment caused me to become wide awake.
Frank was within my room, changing the bedding and in the bundle within her arms, I noticed a slight stain that might be proof of the surrendering of my former untouched state to my husband. I explained about my husband's instruction to nap and she promised to return forthwith with clean linens.
When I lay in bed in just my shift, I thought of all that had happened and gave myself the freedom to explore my person with my own hands. It did not feel the same to caress my breasts with my own hands and I soon gave up generating feelings within myself the same as my husband had. It was his touch I craved and not my own. After an hour or two, after having used the necessary twice, I finally was able to nap and slept quite soundly until woken by Frank to prepare for dressing for dinner.
A/N: Given everything I need to do for Thanksgiving, do not expect me to write or post anything more until perhaps next weekend.