Chapter 13

The following morning, Elizabeth had heard from Georgiana's ladies maid, who had helped her through her toilette, that Mr Darcy had been seen in his study for the first time since his accident. Of a good mind to upbraid him for his lack of care for himself, she made to confront him - and to hopefully encourage him back to more pleasurable and less taxing pursuits.

She found him sitting behind a large desk in a very masculine room, his hair hopelessly ruffled as he gave in to his confusion. He sighed noisily, and transferred his gaze from the mess of papers in front of him to take in the greenery outside his window.

As his eyes returned to the room in front of him, the tension escaped his tall frame when he saw the owner of his affections standing in the threshold. She looked radiant, her brightly coloured gown bringing out the liveliness of her complexion. Her joyful expression drew a physical response from her companion, whose face broke out into a wide grin before he stood to greet her properly. That he wobbled on standing he could not deny, but the look of concern that Elizabeth bestowed upon him warmed his heart.

"You do not need to rise, Mr Darcy" she said, worry seeping into her tone.

"But Elizabeth, I should like to gain the view of you from multiple angles, for all of them are greatly pleasing to me," he smirked handsomely. "And besides - in no small measure thanks to you and your heroic service, I am feeling much more myself and able to stand, and I would like to stretch my legs. If you are agreeable, perhaps a short stroll in the gardens is in order."

Elizabeth laughed freely. The sound swallowed the two of them into a delightful intimacy. It was as if they were the only two creatures in the world. She moved towards him, as if compelled by his gravity. He watched, entranced, as her hips swayed and she chuckled at him.

"My heroic services, indeed. You are quite amusing, Mr Darcy."

It is one of the things I cherish about you, she added silently. He smiled, not receiving the unspoken communication but understanding its intent nonetheless.

She thought for a second in comfortable silence for another witty repartee to encourage him to join her in laughter. "I don't suppose you have a cousin whom I can perform those heroic services for, do you Mr Darcy? It seems only fair given my apparent role of hero and saviour to the Darcy siblings."

Mr Darcy released a deep chuckle that he hadn't realised he had been holding, and mirrored her earlier actions by taking the final few steps towards her.

"I had a contrary idea of a hero's honour you could perform, but I would rather you did not bestow this particular heroic favour onto my cousin, dearest Elizabeth," he replied, full of mirth and joy.

"Is that so," she said with a sultry smile. His returning smile was somewhat tentative, though no less joyful for his sudden nerves. He swallowed thickly. Well, he thought, best to dive in headfirst, no use in prevaricating.

"You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," he said, his voice thick with the weight of the moment. "You who have been the sole focus of my heart and mind since that fateful morning in a parlour in Cliffsend those few months ago now." He paused to collect himself, considering how his attentions could be misconstrued. "I ask that you do not mistake my feelings of love as those of gratitude, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. For I am certain I shall never repay you for your kindness to me and my family, but you would make me the happiest creature on this Earth if you were to become a permanent member thereof. Will you do me the extraordinary honour of taking me as your husband. Elizabeth, will you marry me?"

Small tears sprung to her cheeks as he declared himself. Her heart swelled to find him so willing to bare his heart for her.

"Oh, my love. I shall accept the great honour of becoming your wife. I do not know what I have done to earn your love, but it is a gift that I cherish close to my heart. And having given me so much in doing so, you surpass yourself by giving me a sister most dear to me. In truth, I could not be happier. Indeed, I never wish to be parted from you, from this day on."

It was Mr Darcy's turn to well up, his happiness overflowing onto his face. He took his time giving her leave to understand how his feelings had blossomed for her, hearing her voice through the snippets of her humorous letters to his sister that she had shared with him. He told her in a reverent tone how he cherished her perspectives on the mundane to the ridiculous. She blushed to understand how great of a headstart his feelings had had on hers. For her feelings were not of the longest duration, but what they lacked in age they more than made up for in fervour. But when he spoke so openly and without pretence about their time together in Pemberley, she swooned a little. And she thrilled to realise that in her recent acceptance of his hand, it would be her home soon too. She stated her happiness at the realisation to him, and he permitted himself to imagine the joy that awaited him when they managed to install her properly as mistress of his estates.

For a moment, he battled with his proper and his lustful halves. He did not want to frighten her, but Lord he did want her.

"Elizabeth. I should wish there to be no secrets between us, and so I need to ask one more question," he said in a steady voice.

"What is it, Fitzwilliam?" She asked with a quirk to her eyebrow.

"I would very much like to kiss you, but I do not want you to feel put upon." He blushed, it was all so new.

She pretended to be deep in thought for a moment to tease him ever so slightly. But it was futile, he saw the softening of her stance, caving as she moved towards him.

"It is just as well that I would very much like you to kiss me then, my love," she replied.

"You continue to make me the happiest of men," he almost sang, his joy effervescing from him.

He pulled Elizabeth towards him, pressing their bodies together and devouring her with his love. Their lips found each other, much to both of their satisfaction. He was pleased to feel her hands likewise occupied in exploring his person, sneaking underneath his jacket and encircling his torso with her slender arms. He tried exceedingly hard, but ultimately unsuccessfully, to refrain from roaming his hands lower on her person than was proper. But the reward of her soft, impassioned moan more than forgave his brief lapse in propriety. She briefly broke their kiss in an expression of surprise at her own wanton behaviour, but quickly recovered and returned the favour by tracing her fingers around the waist of his breeches. He swallowed thickly as he touched his forehead to hers to allow them space to breathe. Nestled in this way, they were sharing the same air and it was easily as intimate as kissing. His breathing was ragged. He couldn't resist a hot gaze down her person, and his pride swelled to see her chest rising and falling with similar abandon. He cursed himself, watching the swell of her breasts was not helping him in his quest to calm down. He took a deliberate breath before speaking.

"Elizabeth, my dear Elizabeth," he breathed. Briefly in intent, if not in action, he pressed her hand and kissed her sweetly. "Elizabeth, my love," he sighed.

"Should I forget my name, Mr Darcy, you will prove to be a useful ally in my quest to find it again," she chuckled. Her sweet breath danced tantalisingly close to his lips.

"It's Fitzwilliam," he returned, "please call me by my name."

"I am sure I can oblige my fiancé with such an eminently reasonable request," her voice danced with joy as she savoured the syllables. "Fitzwilliam," she said softly. His name fell from her lips as a gentle mantra.

His answering smile rendered her utterly speechless. She wished to tell him how such an expression became his handsome face, but in absence of the words to do so, instead chose to reignite the flame dancing between them with a searing kiss.

"Fitzwilliam," she whispered when they parted, and proceeded to kiss his nose sweetly. She could see the happiness dancing in his eyes, threatening to explode. And bathing in the joy of it all, she could still feel every delicious foot of him against her soft curves. She felt the headiness in their embrace. She knew it was not strictly proper. But somehow, on that incandescent afternoon, it did not seem to matter much.

~.~

Dinner that evening was a decadent affair, with the enthusiastic joy of two young lovers bubbling in the air. Pemberley's wine cellar was raided for a celebratory bottle or few, and Mr Darcy himself had surprised the catering staff by arriving below stairs in all his state to request a few extra items to make the evening feel celebratory. Mrs Reynolds kindly upbraided him as she had frequently when he was a boy - this time for the short notice. Fortunately, there was no real censure in her tone. His happiness really was infectious. And he really was happy.

Georgiana had collected some flowers, and spent a delightful hour and a half in her chambers with her closest friend and soon-to-be sister, readying themselves for dinner and turning the flowers into a beautiful crown atop Lizzy's head. They spoke animatedly of their good fortune in becoming acquainted in such a chance manner as had occurred in Ramsgate.

"To think, dear Lizzy," Georgiana cried whilst weaving a stem into Elizabeth's smooth curls, "had I been more careful when packing my writing supplies, we may never have crossed paths. And I could be married to that horrible man, or worse. And you could have become a spinster after never finding your perfect match in my brother."

"Let us be thankful that you are sometimes careless then," she replied with a cheeky smile, "it is an event so seldom witnessed, as you are so very accomplished. But an occurrence for which we shall both always have plenty to be grateful for." Georgiana blushed at the compliment, whilst Lizzy continued, "perhaps you should give Fitzwilliam the pen you left behind as a wedding gift?" She mused.

"What a curious but utterly wonderful idea, Lizzy. I will perhaps have to pen my last missive with it to remind him of its significance."

"Indeed I dare say you shall," came a quiet reply. Elizabeth was in fact feeling rather pensive. Her friend's words had struck a chord. So much to be grateful for, sprung from a perfect accident. She thought of the face of her Fitzwilliam, and of how dear a creature he was to her, and thought for a moment of how different everything would have been if Georgiana had woken up on the eve of her travel to Ramsgate in a slightly more organised headspace.

She shuddered to bring herself back to the present, and reminded herself and Georgiana of her favourite philosophy to shake the encroaching melancholy.

"Let us think only of the past as its remembrance gives us pleasure," she said.

"I like that manner of thinking very well indeed," Georgiana replied. She flitted around her friends head, making some final adjustments to her handiwork. "And now, shall we to dinner? Your hair is complete, and you look beautiful - my brother will have an even harder time keeping his eyes to himself than usual. In any case, I should like to begin making more happy memories with my new sister?"

"The Darcy Sisters, I like that title very well indeed," Elizabeth smiled, a radiant smile that befit the Darcy title very well indeed.

~.~

Mr Darcy had indeed struggled to keep his eyes away from Elizabeth's person throughout the evening. Now he knew that she was intended for him, he could not bring himself to worry overmuch. Indeed, he found himself reflecting upon the great pleasure that a pair of fine eyes in the face of a beautiful woman could bestow upon a fiancé who received her gaze so gratefully.

When he had seen the two of them descend the grand staircase together and glide gracefully to his side, he considered himself the luckiest man in England. His sister had lent Elizabeth a deep red evening gown, the burgundy velvet caressing her skin as he could only wish to in present company. He longed for the day in the not so distant future when he could bestow his love to her in such a manner, with silken touches on her soft skin. He did notice the sweet-smelling arrangement of florals in her hair, and an errant thought escaped him, that she appeared to be a nymph, specifically sent to this Earth to tempt him. And he was so very tempted.

He commended his sister for her efforts with a gentle nod, to which she returned a demure smile. They had communicated in this unspoken sense for years. She knew he was grateful the instant she saw his gaze settle on her handiwork - well, her handiwork's wearer.

"I shall go and make sure that everything is in order for dinner, given the last minute nature of you and your impromptu requests," Georgiana teased.

"Thank you, Georgie," both of her companions said simultaneously. The whole party began to chuckle. Georgiana, as promised, padded off to the kitchens. They knew she was subtly allowing them a short private interlude.

It was Mr Darcy who broke the companionable silence first. "You must allow me to tell you how delightful you look this evening," he spoke, his silken voice at her ear leaving a trail of raised hairs on her neck. He had moved closer to her, his hand caressing the small of her back through the velvet fabric of her dress. The scent of the flowers was almost overpowering, especially when combined with her delightful natural perfume.

"If you give me such compliments this evening, my darling, you have no one but yourself to thank for them. I believe you paid for the dress, and it is at your instruction that these flowers grew, and in any case it is all due to Georgie and her marvellous taste, which I dare say she modelled on you and your preferences." Her eyes sparkled with unspoken impishness and he marvelled at her gentle banter. He could feel her soft breath against his neckline as she broke into a wide grin, and it distracted him momentarily.

"Be that as it may," he replied. "My intention in offering the compliment was chiefly to make you smile, and I believe I was successful in my endeavour." At this she smiled anew, delighting in the playful and charming nature of her fiancé. "As much as this dress and those flowers become you, you are beautiful in your own right, my love."

At this, and the intimate closeness of the pair, a delicious rose colour tinted her cheeks.

"In that case, I have no further retort, and must accept your kind words. You may consider me silenced, sir." He immediately wished to silence her in a much more pleasurable way, on such a rare occasion of solitude as this offered, and gave her leave to understand his desires.

She shared them, and was more than happy to reciprocate when his lips migrated from the soft spot near her ear towards her full lips. He paved a blazing trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses across her cheek before reaching her mouth. It was a slow, affirming kiss, if a little brief - they were both aware that Georgiana could return any moment. But for what it lacked in duration, it more than made up for in feeling. Lizzy was fairly new to kissing in general, and felt that she should be happy to do little else in his company. Mr Darcy, for his part, knew a great deal more than Lizzy about what they were to share in their marriage bed, and found himself again wishing they could progress to something more than just kissing. It was maddening. Everything about her tempted him. Everywhere she touched him, even through layers of clothes, fell aflame. All he could think coherently was that he needed to have a conversation with her father, and soon.

When they heard Georgiana's footsteps coming up the stairs from the kitchens, they reluctantly parted and moved towards the dining hall. Fortunately, Mr and Mrs Gardiner chose that exact moment to appear, arm in arm at the top of the great stairs.

~.~

Dinner was a great success by all accounts, indeed many at the table had not ever passed an evening so merry. The Pemberley party retired in good spirits and excited for the future.

Mr Darcy received his awaited response from Mr Charles Bingley the following morning. Although it was rather ill written, he was given leave to understand that he and his sister would be most welcome to stay with Mr Bingley in Netherfield Park for the requested fortnight, for he had arrived the week prior and would welcome the input of his sensible friend whilst settling into his first estate.

Mr Darcy reflected upon the following two weeks with some trepidation, knowing that he would not only meet lots of new people, but would likely face scrutiny from them. Elizabeth's family and friends would no doubt rake him over the coals in their road to assessing his character and suitability for their precious jewel. He reasoned, at least, it would be short lived and infinitely better than had this meeting taken place prior to securing the lady's affection and her hand. To be offered to the Merton marriage market as a young and eligible bachelor would have been insupportable. As it was, there was a significant part of him that approached the upcoming trial with excitement, to see the fundamentals of what had made up Elizabeth's life for so long. He would be able to peer into her make-up, to see who she had been before they had so serendipitously been thrust into each other's lives thanks to his sister and her momentary carelessness.

That being said, he could not wait until it was all over and they had removed back to Pemberley together. Alone. It was his deepest desire. For now, he would simply throw himself into helping Bingley with his new estate, and he would try his best to win over her family. I will be charming, or so help me God, he thought as he finished the final instructions to his valet on his luggage