Chapter 9

August 1812

Elizabeth was dreaming…

She lay in the mistress's chamber, waiting for her husband to come to her. He had walked her to the door, bowed over her hand, and said he would attend her in half an hour.

He had not visited her bed in the two nights travelling to Pemberley, but she supposed now that he was home, he would not want to delay in his attempts for an heir. That was, after all, what every man wanted, according to her mother. Elizabeth was the only one Darcy could have one with now, after all, even if she was only 'tolerable.'

She was very nervous. No one had told her anything about what to expect in the marriage bed. Her mother had said nothing, and Lizzy had not liked to ask her. Over the years, she had heard Mrs. Bennet use words like "duty" and "submission" in reference to the marriage bed, and Lizzy did not want her opinion. She had wished to ask Aunt Gardiner, but the Gardiners had been unable to come to Hertfordshire on such short notice for the wedding with her uncle's business.

At last there was a knock on the connecting door, and Elizabeth bid Darcy enter in a wavering voice. He came in, wearing a wine-red robe, tied around his waist with a sash.

"I hope you find your rooms comfortable, Elizabeth?" he asked after an awkward moment of silence.

"Yes, thank you, sir."

He moved toward the bed, discarding his robe before he climbed in. Elizabeth took a sharp breath and jerked her head away. He was naked! Was nakedness necessary for the marriage act?

She had no idea what happened when a man lay with his wife. She had lived all her life in the country, so she was aware of how it happened with animals. Was it the same with people? Would she have to get on her hands and knees?

She started breathing more rapidly as her nervousness morphed into fear. Darcy had got under the covers with her, and was trying to lift her nightgown over her head. She crossed her arms over her chest, impeding his progress, hoping he would not insist.

Darcy sighed, but said merely, "You may keep your nightdress on, Elizabeth, if it makes you feel more comfortable."

She could smell the brandy on his breath as he bent down to kiss her. She supposed he must need brandy to fortify himself before lying with a woman he despised, a woman who was only 'tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt him.'

She resented having to do this. She had saved his life. Why should she be punished for the rest of her life for an act of compassion?

Darcy's tongue intruded into her mouth, and she drew back in horror. She had never been kissed before, and had never heard of tongues being used. Darcy chuckled and stroked her cheek. "No?" he asked in a warm tone.

She shook her head, wondering what he found so amusing. Her inexperience? Usually men preferred that in their brides.

Instead he began to kiss her softly again with just his lips, and Elizabeth started to relax just a little. It did feel lovely to have his soft lips moving against hers. She was not sure how to respond, but enjoyed the feeling until Darcy's hand moved down and covered her breast.

She stiffened at once. How dare he touch such a place! No one had ever touched her in such a manner. Only she had ever touched her breasts, and that while bathing. It was entirely inappropriate.

"It is all right, Elizabeth," said Darcy softly. "You will enjoy this if you just relax."

Enjoy what? She did not know what was coming, and was so nervous that she could not concentrate on the kisses he sprinkled over her cheek, neck, and shoulder. He again plumped her breast with his hand, attempted to tease the nipple, but she shrank away from his touch.

Darcy sighed, and, to Elizabeth's relief, removed his hand. But she was horrified to find that instead he had moved it underneath her nightgown and was attempting to touch that private place between her thighs. She snapped her legs together, trapping his hand.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a trembling demand. She would not allow even her husband to manhandle her in such a way.

"I am trying to get you prepared to take me, Elizabeth," Darcy said in a voice of forced patience. "I promise you will like this."

She was not liking anything about this, including this man. She would not open her legs again when he urged her to, but once he assured her once more that it would be all right, that he would never hurt her, she widened them slightly.

She felt something hard and velvety against her thigh, and realized what it was a moment before he moved between her thighs. She tried to chant to herself that she would be all right, she would be all right. Darcy would never hurt her, as much as he disliked her. He was not a cruel man.

Then she felt her body being invaded by something very large and hard that stretched her private place to the point of discomfort. Then, a moment later, there was searing pain, and Elizabeth cried out.

Darcy's weight was heavy on her, and she was still trying to process what had happened when she heard Darcy's voice asking if she was all right. Of course she was not all right! He had said it would not hurt! But she could not speak.

He then began to move, invading her body over and over. The pain, rather than diminishing, seeming to increase each time he pushed into her body, and she trembled with the effort not to cry. She felt so very small and helpless, trapped under his weight. She almost wished now that they had done it as the animals did, as uncivilized as it would have been.

But there was nothing civilized in the way Darcy was touching her now, in the way he had touched her since he entered her bedchamber. How much longer would this continue? She was not sure she could stand the pain and humiliation much longer.

Darcy grunted with each thrust, until he suddenly sped up and held deep inside her. His whole body shuddered, and he let out a low groan before he came to rest on top of her. She felt a hot wetness spill deep inside of her.

She wanted to push him off of her, and after a moment, when he did not move, she used her tiny hands to try to shift his bulk. Feeling her efforts, he rolled off of her, then sat on the edge of the bed to put his banyan back on. Elizabeth was trembling, holding back her sobs, as he looked back at her.

"I am sorry, Elizabeth. I – I wanted to make it beautiful for you."

She did not know what could possibly be beautiful about such a humiliating and painful act. She did not speak for fear she would break into sobs, and faced with her silence, and got up and went into his room.

Barely had the door closed when she let loose her tears and wept. She wept for her lost home of Longbourn, for missing Jane and her other sisters, for the pain of feeling rubbed raw up inside her, for the blood she now saw on the bedsheet, and for the loveless marriage she was forever forced into.

Elizabeth woke and sat up in a cold sweat. She looked about her. She was alone in the mistress's chambers at Pemberely, and it was morning. She realized it was eight months after the event in her dream – or was it a memory? She shuddered to think that it was a memory, but surely her imagination could never come up with such a horror.

Was that really what went on in the marriage bed? Had she had to suffer the pain and humiliation many times? Or, had it ceased once Elizabeth found she was with child? She was not sure how many times it took.

She felt sick. She was coming to love Darcy. This seemed to taint it somehow. And what were those foreboding feelings she had had in her dream? She knew she and Darcy had not loved each other when they married, but had they really despised each other? Why had she thought of herself as only 'tolerable'?

Darcy had not visited her bed since she had woken up from her accident. But surely he did not need to, now that she was carrying his child. Before, she had thought that he was being thoughtful, to give her time to accustom herself to him again. What was the real reason? Or was it both?

Jane would arrive at Pemberley with Mr. Bingley in only a few days. She would ask her oldest sister about the marriage bed then. She did not think she could dare pen such a thing in a letter to her Aunt Gardiner. Besides, Jane was married now. She would know the truth of such matters. Could it be that every husband treated his wife with such disrespect and lack of care? She could not imagine her Uncle Edward treating Aunt Madeline that way. But then, they loved each other. Did love make a difference in such a disgusting act? If it was necessary to produce children, of course women would agree to it, however much they might hate it.

Elizabeth resolved to rise for the day and try not to think about it until Jane arrived. There was no use in fretting.

Darcy noticed a difference in Elizabeth that day, that continued until her sister Jane arrived. She seemed pale and subdued, and kept glancing at him as if she had something on her mind. He wondered if she had recalled something else from their relationship, and dreaded what it might be.

He dared not ask, however. Things had been going so well between them, that he feared a setback. He even had hope now that she might come to love him. If she could learn to love him, before her memory returned … then perhaps there might be hope for their marriage.

"Charles! Jane! I'm glad you made it safely!" Darcy stepped forward to shake hands with a fair-haired young man whom Elizabeth had glimpsed in her memories. Next to him was Jane, looking flushed and beaming with joy.

The two sisters raced toward each other with arms outstretched. "Oh, Lizzy! How glad I am to see you!" cried Jane. "I was so worried when Mr. Darcy sent us word of your accident and memory loss."

"As you can see, I am quite well," said Elizabeth with a smile. Then Jane turned to Mary and greeted her with an equally firm hug.

"How was Paris?" Mary asked.

"Oh, I have so much to tell both of you!" Jane cried. "We will have to gather in my bedroom this evening to exchange news. And you are so far along, Lizzy!" Jane looked back to see Elizabeth's gigantic stomach.

"The baby is due in the first week of September," said Elizabeth, unable to conceal her excitement. Not only was she eager to hold her baby in her arms, but she was tired of the discomforts of pregnancy.

"And of course I will stay here with you to see the little one safely delivered. I might have news of my own to impart soon," she added in a low voice.

Elizabeth gasped with pleasure to hear it, but then that brought her mind back to how children were made. Had Mr. Bingley treated Jane in such an infamous manner? She would ask Jane at their first private moment.

Georgiana came forward to greet their guests, and both Jane and Bingley addressed her warmly. As Elizabeth looked at Bingley's cheerful face, she had a flash of memory. It was the day before the wedding, and Caroline Bingley had said something particularly cutting to Elizabeth. Bingley had taken her to task over it and sent her from the room. Elizabeth's smile widened.

"I am glad to meet my new brother once again," she said, "although I do have a few memories of you."

"I am glad to see you are doing well, Elizabeth. And Darcy looks like the cat that got the cream. I see that marriage agrees with both of you."

Mrs. Reynolds led the guests up to their chambers, and Elizabeth waited with impatience for Jane to come back down.

"Are you feeling well, my dear?" Darcy asked, sitting beside her. "Your feet are not swollen, are they?"

"Oh, I am doing very well, thank you. I am just so excited to see Jane. And I do not believe my ankles are overly swollen, although I cannot see them to confirm," she said with chagrin.

He just smiled that dimpled smile that always delighted her. "I am glad to see Bingley too. He has always been a good friend."

"You met him at university?" Elizabeth asked, trying to remember.

"Yes. I was in my last year when he started his first. He is a few years younger than I. I have invited Mr. Wickham to supper later this week. He will be glad to see Bingley too. He does not know him as well as I do, but they met at Cambridge."

They all had a splendid supper together with spirited conversation. Elizabeth was delighted to see her favourite sister so happy. She found Mr. Bingley to be a very pleasant gentleman, and perfect for her more reserved sister.

After dinner, the sisters declared they were tired, and so after their maids had changed them into their nightclothes, they piled onto Mary's bed to share their sisterly secrets. Elizabeth knew Darcy would like to have time to talk to Bingley anyway.

Elizabeth and Mary peppered Jane with questions about Paris, and she answered with great detail about the wonders she had seen, the delicious meals she had eaten, and the new clothes she had had made.

Eventually, Mary fell asleep, and their voices dropped to whispers so as not to wake her.

"Come, let us go to my room to talk," Elizabeth said, taking Jane's hand.

"Will Mr. Darcy not mind?" asked Jane.

"Oh, no. Not at all."

Jane looked concerned, but Elizabeth led her down the hall to the mistress's chambers.

"Now, what did you want to speak to me about?" Jane asked once they were settled on the bed.

"Who said I had something specific to say?" asked Elizabeth.

"Lizzy, I knew you better than anyone. There is something on your mind."

"Very well." Elizabeth looked down at the counterpane. "Jane, I was wondering if you would tell me about – the marriage bed."

Jane gaped at her. "You do not know? – but –"

"No one told me what to expect before I was married," said Elizabeth, not willing to mention her memory. "And Mr. Darcy has not visited my room since my accident."

"That is very considerate of him to wait until you remember him better," said Jane.

"Yes. The truth is, I would like to know the truth of it. The baby will be here soon, and I want to know what to expect after – that is, Mr. Darcy and I have grown closer, and…" She trailed off in embarrassment.

"I see what you are saying," said Jane understandingly. "The marriage bed, with a man one loves, is extremely pleasurable, Lizzy."

Elizabeth sat up to hear that, astonished. "It is pleasant?"

Jane smiled dreamily. "More than pleasant."

"But – it does not hurt?"

"It hurts only a little bit the first time. After that, you feel only pleasure."

Elizabeth could not reconcile this with her memory. That occasion had hurt a great deal, not just a little bit. In fact, it had hurt for the next two days until she healed. "What does the pleasure come from?" she asked, biting her lip.

Jane looked embarrassed at this. "Well, there is the kissing, of course. And then, your husband will touch you in places where no one has touched you before. You would think to be horrified except that it feels so good. Then, the – the main part is the best part of all." Jane stopped, blushing a deep red.

"I see," Elizabeth said, sitting in thought for long moments. Had it been so terrible then because Darcy and Elizabeth had not loved each other at the time? But then how did that explain the pain? There had been blood.

"Is there blood the first time?"

Jane looked surprised. "Maybe. I do not know. I did not have any blood the first time." She looked into her sister's face. "Lizzy, is there something you are not telling me? Did you remember something, or …?"

"Oh, Jane," said Elizabeth, "I remembered the night we consummated our marriage, but I had no idea what to expect. I was frightened and the pain was so terrible."

Jane drew her into her arms. "I am so sorry, Lizzy. But you should be assured that it gets much better after the first time. And you and Mr. Darcy are fond of each other, as I have heard from your letters. There is no need to worry, when the time comes for you to join with your husband again."

Elizabeth felt some relief at unburdening herself to Jane. She would trust her eldest sister, who had been married for months. "And does it happen even after a woman is with child?" she asked shyly.

"Oh, yes, and very frequently," said Jane with another blush.

"Thank you, Janie. I feel much better. Would you like to sleep here, or return to your chamber?"

"I had better return to my room, else Charles will not know where to find me."

Both sisters giggled.

"Very well. Have a good sleep, Jane."

"You as well, Lizzy."