Page 64 of I Thee Wed (Pride And Prejudice Variation #2)

The morning after their wedding night dawned gray and wet.

A thin ribbon of light shone through a gap in the drapes.

Elizabeth was the first to awaken. She felt Fitzwilliam’s warmth radiating from his body as he lay against her back, fast asleep.

His warm, even breath tickled her neck, his arm lay across her waist, and his leg was tucked in between hers.

She was careful not to stir. She felt a tremor of wonder at the strangeness and the sweetness of waking next to the man she loved.

She lay still while she considered what she ought to do.

Elizabeth needed to use the commode. The absurdity of her situation provoked a laugh, but she stifled the impulse.

With resolute forbearance, she decided to wait as long as possible, and perhaps he would wake up soon.

He shifted and his arm tightened around her belly.

She heard a murmur, and then he bent his head so that his lips were near her ear.

“Good morning, Mrs. Darcy.”

Her heart throbbed. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy.”

“You are more beautiful than I had ever imagined,” he whispered, the words were a caress.

She felt his hand trace an idle path along her leg, and with it came a thrill of pleasure that provoked a little groan. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, you are very complimentary to a woman who cannot even locate her night gown.”

He laughed under his breath. “It is for that very reason that your beauty is so apparent to me this morning, my darling girl. I admit mine is also missing. Last night’s enthusiasm had everything to do with this morning’s vision of unalloyed loveliness.” He murmured. “And you are all mine.”

Color rose in her cheeks. “Sir, you led me astray with your manifold charms.”

“Had I known what happiness you would bring me, madam, I would have married you in April, when we first met at Ramsgate,” he said softly.

“I remember you at the pianoforte, singing those haunting ballads. You were a siren from the Greek tales, and I the most helpless of sailors, bewitched by your voice and your irresistible melodies.”

She turned to face him, her eyes alive with mischief. “You showed uncommon prudence for so helpless a sailor. You waited months before you surrendered.”

“It was misguided pride,” he replied. “Let us never be parted again, Elizabeth. I have missed you through every trial. I’ve had my fill of smugglers, Scotland, and women who would hunt me for my wealth but have never taken the time to know me.

But that is all behind me now. I would rather contend with your teasing than with Richard’s directives and women on the prowl. ”

“Wise at last,” she murmured.

He kissed her temple. “Elizabeth. Eventually, we will have to endure the rigors of the Ton, but not this winter. We shall travel to Pemberley, and spend quiet evenings by the fire, reading books; we will take long walks when the weather permits, and if we are snowed in, we will stay in bed and enjoy each other’s attractions at leisure with no one to interrupt us. ”

Her pulse quickened. “It sounds like paradise, Fitzwilliam.”

“The marriage announcement will not be published until next week, to avoid well-wishers whose only desire is to collect fodder for fresh gossip.” He kissed her brow.

“I won’t waste our time together entertaining hypocrites.

By Easter, I shall bring you back to town and introduce you properly.

We will arrive in ample time to place an order with my aunt’s modiste, for you will require every style of gown to withstand the rigors of society.

I shall make a show of enjoying myself, though it will be a sacrifice that must be endured.

As you must have guessed by now, my darling, I detest attending balls, soirees, routs, and the like. ”

“You will fail with elegance,” she said, with dancing eyes. “I thought you only behaved in that way at small country dances.”

He grinned and kissed her. “Elizabeth, I am outrageously happy.”

“I am too Fitzwilliam,” she murmured. “I have to admit, you have ruined my self-control, sir.”

He drew back an inch to admire her blush. “Your pleasure is my command, and I strive for excellence where you are concerned, Elizabeth,” he replied, grinning.

“Pray stop, or I shall be forced to hide beneath the pillow,” she said, half covering her face with the sheet.

“I find you very pleasing, my darling. The woman is far better than my dream.”

There was a short silence between them while she hid her face under a pillow. He tugged it away. “I will stop teasing Elizabeth.” He saw that she was smiling up at him.

“What thought has stolen over you?”

“Only that I had no idea such happiness existed outside of novels,” she said. “It feels like theft. I hope no one comes to claim it back.”

“No claimant will be admitted,” he answered. “Mr. Higgins guards the door with the rigidity of a fortress.”

Just then, there was a tap at the dressing-room door followed by a discreet voice. “Hot water, sir.”

Darcy answered without moving. “Set it there, Reeves. Mrs. Darcy is still asleep.” His eyes danced. “I hope you don’t mind being my excuse for tardiness.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “Not at all.” She stroked her finger over his lips. “You are become such a tease, Mr. Darcy, and now you are telling white lies to your valet. You are incorrigible.”

“A certain siren made me so,” he returned.

She suddenly slid from the bed and reached for the sheet, then hesitated, her shyness overcoming her. He saw it at once and rose with her; the sheet was now wrapped around her.

“Command me,” he said.

“You may begin,” she replied, “by finding my nightgown, which appears to have disintegrated into thin air, no doubt through some fault of yours, sir.”

He chuckled and began to search the foot of the bed, then the chair, then the floor, and at last held up the offending garment with triumph. “I found it.”

“Thank you,” she said, and allowed him to help her into it; the gesture was tender.

“My pleasure,” he murmured.

She glanced at the window, where the pale light had brightened. “What is the hour?”

“Indecently late. Thankfully, no callers are expected. Mrs. Nichols was instructed to turn away all humanity.”

“Even Mr. Bingley?”

“Especially Mr. Bingley. Happiness has rendered him fearless. He would burst in with flowers and apologies, yet invade our privacy all the same.”

“Speaking of which, Mr. Darcy, I am in great need of privacy, sir,” she said, her countenance touched with embarrassment.

“Have you tired of me so soon, Mrs. Darcy?”

“No, sir, but I am in sore need of the necessary, and I cannot yet imagine myself so easy with you as to use it in your presence.”

He flushed. “Of course, I was not thinking. I shall go to my own room for my ablutions, and I will make certain I knock before I return.”

He paused in the doorway and looked back at her, happiness shining so purely that he caught his breath. She said, “Fitzwilliam, may we be ordinary today? Could we breakfast by the fire and have a walk if the weather permits? No ceremony. Only us.”

“Only us,” he said. “Today, tomorrow, and the day after that. Then Pemberley, where we shall strive to be ordinary in a house full of servants.”

She looked momentarily distressed.

He smiled and drew her closer. “Never fear, my darling. I shall dismiss them from our rooms and bid them attend us only when we ring.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She walked towards her dressing room. “Now send for breakfast, Mr. Darcy, before your siren turns tyrannical. As you know, I love to eat.”

He bowed. “Your wish is my desire, Mrs. Darcy.”

She laughed again and disappeared into the dressing-room. He stood a moment longer in the quiet, his smile soft, and rang for breakfast, very certain that the day before him, and all the days after, would not be long enough.