"It doesn't matter anyway," she said decisively. "Caroline is your best friend's sister and obliquely related to us, so therefore we will be attending the wedding."
Darcy frowned but said nothing further on the subject, knowing she was correct.
"Look on the bright side, it should be amusing! Perhaps it will cheer you after suffering through Georgiana's debut at Almack's."
"Or it will be two insults within the space of a week that may topple me over the edge to insanity."
"My, you are dramatic. Are you going to be dramatic like your papa, Alexander? Hmmm?" She leaned to retrieve another dropped toy from the floor, stopping to nibble on his fat toes before giving the stuffed hound dog back. One floppy ear went directly into the baby's mouth as she turned her thoughtful gaze upon Darcy. "I have been thinking it may be best if you do not chaperone Georgiana. Wait, hear me out!" She lifted her hand to stay his response. "You can trust Georgie not to do anything foolish. She deserves this time to have fun, and I am not so sure if she will relax with you glowering at anyone who tries to dance with her!"
"I promise I shan't."
"You will try not to, but it will come naturally, my love." She smiled, kissing his cheek. "You will be uncomfortable in the atmosphere and worried for her. Emotion will show on your face to some degree no matter how you strive for nonchalance. There are others who can chaperone, sparing you the torture."
"Who did you have in mind?" He asked suspiciously.
"I was thinking of George or..."
"My Uncle George? Are you serious?" He sputtered. "He would be too busy flirting with every female over the age of five-and-twenty to notice if a gentleman acts inappropriately with my sister!"
"Dramatic again," she countered with a shake of her head and laugh. "Indubitably, George would be pouring on the charm, but he loves Georgie too much to ignore her. You trust him to escort her to Stevenage this summer--"
"I was coerced and taken unawares," he inserted grumpily.
"--so how is this worse? And there is also Richard. He is her guardian, after all, and not so apt to flirt with his heart locked upon Lady Fotherby."
Darcy remained silent, his face set in the expression Lizzy knew meant he was considering. She waited, watching as he kept his focus upon Alexander, bouncing and caressing idly as he frowned and thought her arguments through. Finally, "Very well. I concur that I am overreacting, slightly. I will accompany her this Wednesday for her first appearance. She has requested my presence to ease her nervousness. After that, I will permit Richard and my uncle to alternate if they wish." He glanced up into her eyes, smiling faintly. "I need to learn to let go, yes?"
Lizzy smiled in return, holding his eyes with love and respect, the teasing left unspoken. "Here, let me take our drooling wiggler to Mrs. Hanford so we can begin preparing for the symphony."
When she returned Darcy had doffed his jackets and cravat and was bent over the desk they shared in their smaller Darcy House bedchamber. He was rereading Anne's letter when she approached and slipped her arms around his waist from behind, leaning onto his back and squeezing. He straightened and turned, drawing her gently into his embrace. She draped her arms over his shoulders, twining her fingers into his hair and pulling his head down to meet her upturned lips.
"What were you saying about needing a few kisses to restore your harmony?" She whispered against his lips.
"Hmmm. I believe I said they would suffice if we had no time for more."
Her chuckle was stifled by a passionately seeking mouth. The kisses, or rather one continuous kiss, began tenderly but rapidly smoldered and flamed. Darcy held her firmly against his chest, one hand between her shoulder blades and the other flattened upon her derriere and pressing hard into his pelvis. Heat flared between them, readily felt through the thin layers of clothing.
Yet, despite the ever-present desire to make love to his wife and the instantaneous emergence of his physical response to her passionate touch, Darcy restrained himself. His teasing references to engaging in rushed lovemaking were not untrue or unwelcome, but he comprehended that preparing for a social event took time. He appreciated how carefully Elizabeth fussed over her appearance for these engagements and knew without a doubt that she would stun him with her beauty and perfection. Therefore, he stifled the groan lodged in his throat and pulled away from her lips to commence a languid exploration of her neck with gentle kisses. He moved his hand to the small of her back and slackened the pressure holding her body tightly against his.
"I was thinking," Lizzy whispered huskily, biting his earlobe sharply, "I bathed this morning so do not really need to do so again, and I am sure Marguerite has my garments prepared, and you can remove my day dress as well as she, so... Oh!"
Darcy had uttered not a word. Instead he precipitously lifted her into his arms, moving quickly to the bed. Just that quickly, his solicitude disappeared!
Lizzy laughed breathlessly. "You had to carry me the ten steps to the bed? We couldn't walk?"
"Far speedier this way. Time is of the essence, Mrs. Darcy." He grinned, but was quite serious. He straddled her thighs, hastily discarding his shirt and tossing it onto the floor, and then bent over her supine body with a hand next to each shoulder and arms straight, his body not touching hers. He drew close, his mouth inches from hers. "What is your pleasure, my lover? Shall I kiss and lick your flesh, your writhing and pleading driving me insane with desire until I cannot resist and bury myself deeply here as you lay? Or do you wish to be in control, sending me to places unimaginable with your skillful touch?" As he spoke in a soft whisper he moved his lips along her jaw and face, warm breath stroking her sensitive skin with each word interspersed with feathery kisses.
She was already running her hands over his torso, squeezing and pressing as she arched her back in an effort to contact his body. "I have no preference, Fitzwilliam. Just hurry!"
Darcy smiled, aware she was no longer referring to their evening's agenda and the preparatory requirements.
God, how I rejoice in her response to me!
The power to excite her so easily, so continually, was intoxicating. Of course, his ardor was as swiftly roused, probably even more so, the fire blazing uncontrolled through every nerve and his groin aching with need.
Suddenly it was not about the shortness of time but rather the impatience to be one as they attained pleasure unparalleled. A ragged groan burst forth as he again captured her mouth in a plundering kiss. He kept himself aloft, unerringly using one hand to unclasp the row of peach cloth-covered buttons down the front of her dress.
Lizzy clasped onto his shoulders, abruptly pushing him away as she launched upward from the bed. Darcy was momentarily surprised, but immediately relaxed, sitting back onto his heels. "Impatient, my love?" He asked with a salacious grin and raised brow.
"Together we can accomplish the task quicker."
And they did. Seconds later she was completely nude, garments strewn wildly about the room for probably the thousandth time since their wedding night. She instantly attacked the straining buttons of his trouser fall, eliciting rumbling groans and tensing muscles as she spared several minutes in focused titillation to the newly exposed flesh.
"Oh Lizzy! Please... stop!" He tugged harshly on her pinned hair, not intending to cause her pain but desperate to halt the arousing actions that threatened to send him over the edge without her.
She rose as he bid, running her hands around his hips and over his firm buttocks, holding on as she joined with him in one strong motion. Simultaneously, they expelled loud sighing moans, assuming a familiar rhythm.
Neither spoke, although the room was far from quiet. Time may have been short, but they enjoyed the interlude and did not rush. Attuned to his wife, Darcy knew seconds before she shouted and arched her back, fingertips digging harshly into his shoulder as she shuddered. He released the residual thread of his control, utterly succumbing to the spasms rushing through his body just as she cried out his name.
The dazzling euphoria that blinded their eyes and gripped every muscle lasted a short span of time, but the warm tingling remained long after they collapsed onto the cushioned mattress. Lizzy idly caressed the muscled leg lying across her abdomen as clarity restored and she became aware of the familiar deep, rhythmic exhalations wafting over her bare shoulder. She chuckled, turning to gaze upon the face of her spouse. He was flushed, satisfaction evident in the upward tilt to his lips, but he was also falling into a doze, as he often did after they made love.
"Fitzwilliam," she said with a laugh and nudge to his inert shoulder, "we must leave in less than an hour. No time for a nap."
He garbled unintelligibly, moving only to cup one breast and plant a weak kiss against her upper arm.
She laughed harder, wiggling and twisting until he was rolled onto his back with her leaning on his chest. She inevitably felt invigorated and alive after they loved, especially in the middle of the day. Darcy frequently did as well, but more typically he experienced a period of satiated inertia. He recovered fairly quickly--sometimes recovering very well and desiring a repeat performance--but for that span of time, he was borderline stuporous.
Caught between a laugh and an annoyed grumble, Darcy opened his eyes slowly, peering into the radiant face of his wife. "Go on ahead, darling," he mumbled gratingly, "I'll just rest here for a minute or two." And his eyes slipped closed.
"Oh no you don't!" She exclaimed, leaning to kiss his lips and playfully slap his cheeks. "Samuel will scowl and scold if you force him to hastily dress and shave. You insisted on having your way with me so now you must pay the price."
"Ha!" He said with increased vigor. He opened his eyes, the blue orbs shining and clear, and grinned. "I was prepared to be a gentleman until my lascivious wife threw herself upon me."
"Well," she countered, "You can no longer wail and bemoan your need for comfort amid the stress, now can you?"
Any retort was lost, Lizzy delivering a pert kiss before launching from the bed. She was laughing as she flounced toward her dressing room, turning at the door to blow a kiss his direction. Darcy happily watched her naked figure sway and mince, his lethargy abruptly disappearing in the surging joy that life with Elizabeth brought. With a final chuckle, he too rose from the bed, his step light and gay if a bit more swaggering than his wife's.
***
Darcy chaperoned his sister for her initial appearance at Almack's Assembly beginning that Wednesday.
Dressed in one of a dozen new gowns designed specifically for her Almack's engagements, Georgiana was a vision of loveliness. Again the mixture of pride and dismay that pierced Darcy's heart was difficult to bear. He knew his sister well enough to recognize the subtle signs of her anxiety and shyness, yet was amazed at her outwardly tranquil expression and lack of fidgeting. It had taken him at least two years to master the reserved aloofness that was now too easily construed as arrogance and disdain, his hands still often betraying his discomfort by twiddling in some manner. Georgiana, on the other hand, was the picture of serenity.
They arrived some half-hour before dancing commenced at eleven o'clock. "You do not wish to be the first to arrive," Darcy explained to Georgiana, "nor should you delay and miss the opportunity to secure a respectable dance partner for the first set." Thus with impeccable timing, they presented their subscription tickets and passed through the widely opened doors, entered the revered interior of the premiere dance assembly in all of England.
For Darcy, entering the spacious and lofty room lit to dazzling proportions by a staggering number of chandeliers and candles brought back painful memories. He glanced about at the crush of young men and women, all in attire richly adorned and fashioned to display their attributes, noting the fathers and mothers and other chaperones peering speculatively at each person of the opposite sex than their ward, and silently sent a prayer heavenward that he had been so blessed to find his Elizabeth.
Georgiana, on the other hand, noted the plush sofas lining the four walls, the profusion of finely dressed handsome men and beautiful women already engaged in gay conversation, the enormous roped-off area for dancing, the soberly uniformed musicians tuning their instruments, and the raised dais upon which the seven Lady Patronesses held court, and her heart soared.
They wove through the tight press nearest the door, but managed less than ten feet into the room before Miss Darcy was hailed by a group of friends. She squeezed Darcy's arm, gazing upward for permission, and at his stiff nod she was gone.
The night passed in a blur for Georgiana. She danced almost every dance and rarely sat down. The introductions to dozens upon dozens of highly eligible bachelors were impossible to remember, and she honestly did not care. She wanted to have fun, leaving thoughts of matrimony or falling in love for another day.
Of course, Darcy did not fully believe this, despite his wife's assurances, and he certainly did not trust the slathering hounds persistently dogging his baby sister's steps with eyes far too bold for his comfort. Five in the morning could not arrive swiftly enough for him!
Georgiana hardly noticed her brother at first, almost forgetting he was there. However, after hours of his stern mien bordering on a scowl with piercing eyes that marked every move she made, his towering attendance hinging on menace in close proximity to wherever she moved within the enormous hall, and his curt retorts to any comments directed his way by anyone of the male sex, she began to seriously yearn for her uncle or cousin! Thankfully, they were all too happy to accompany her for the remaining Wednesdays until they departed in June.