I am fortunate today to have Sally Smith O'Rourke as my guest again. When we were discussing the post and deciding on this story, this is what Sally told me, "When I did the wedding night it was my first foray into writing Austen's characters so I handled it like I do my books and had Jane and Fanny discussing why she didn't include the wedding night in the book." From reading it one would never have guessed it to be a first foray into Austen's characters. It is beautifully romantic and an exceedingly good story, steamy but not explicit! I especially enjoyed the dialogue between Jane and Fanny and then Jane's contemplative thoughts when alone. Thank you, Sally, for sharing this with us here.
There is another giveaway with this post. If the winner is domestic, Ms. O'Rourke is giving away one paperback or eBook, winner's choice, of Yours Affectionately, Jane Austen. An eBook of the same will be the giveaway if the winner is international. Thank you, Sally Smith O"Rourke.
Now please enjoy this charming story.
In Fanny’s room at the Great House Jane and Fanny were talking about
the upcoming nuptials of Annabelle Rodgers.
Jane was taken aback when her niece suddenly asked, “Why did you not
write about Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy’s wedding night, Aunt?”
“One writes what one knows, Fanny and I know nothing of such things.”
“Could you not have imagined it?”
“I suppose I could have. Why do you ask?”
“I often wonder about my wedding night. I imagine my groom to be kind
and gentle. Do you think it will be like that?”
Jane smiled at her niece, “I am afraid it will depend entirely on your
groom.”
Later that evening, Jane sat on the wide window sill in her bedroom
gazing into the eternity that was the nighttime sky, the new moon barely a
sliver. Fanny’s question had perched itself squarely in the forefront of her
mind. “Could you not have imagined it?”
She chuckled. She had imagined it; however the imagining had been of
herself and Fitzwilliam Darcy of Virginia rather than Lizzy and Darcy of Pride
and Prejudice. Any number of times in the past three years she had dreamt of
him; his arms around her and the sweet taste of his kisses. His kisses were the
only ones she would ever know.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the glass. She had
sensed in the American an underlying passion that she experienced when he
touched her, which he did as often as he could, whenever they were alone. He
held her hand, he would encircle her waist with his arm and as often as he
dared he would hold her in an embrace from which she did not want to be
released. He kissed her hand, he kissed her neck; she giggled, he even kissed
her nose and nibbled her ear. She shivered at the memories.
Elizabeth’s admiration and respect grew with every moment Mr. Darcy
endured the vulgarity of Aunt Phillips and the fawning, unctuous attention of
Mr. Collins. She was grateful, too that her mother’s awe of her new son-in-law
was keeping her quiet. Sir William couldn’t say enough complimentary things
about Mr. Darcy and while Elizabeth enjoyed hearing so much praise she excused
herself and made her way to her husband’s side in an attempt to shield him from
further insult. He smiled his appreciation as her aunt and cousin now turned
their attentions to Jane and Mr. Bingley.
Darcy brought Elizabeth’s hand to his lips and whispered, “Shall be go
home?”
Home. She looked around her mother’s sitting room; this was no longer
her home. Her home was with him now. She looked up at him and smiled, the
excitement of the notion tightening her stomach.
She went first to Jane and then to her father. His sad smile hid the
despair he felt at losing his second and favorite daughter. His consolation was
her happiness. And she was very happy; he had never seen his Lizzy glow with
such joy. While she bid farewell to her father, Darcy went to the Gardiners,
thanking them once again for taking Elizabeth into Derbyshire the summer before
and in appreciation extended an unlimited invitation for them to visit
Pemberley. He then slipped quietly into the foyer and waited for his wife. He did
not wait long, Elizabeth and her father came through the sitting room door,
arm-in-arm as Mrs. Hill handed Mr. Darcy’s hat and coat to his valet. Her
father helped Elizabeth with her coat and then kissed her cheek.
Mr. Darcy saw the tears welling up in Mr. Bennet’s eyes. “I love and
respect her, Sir. I will take care of her.” Mr. Bennet nodded and walked to the
door with the couple but Darcy stopped, “Should we not bid farewell to Mrs.
Bennet?”
Mr. Bennet spoke before Elizabeth had the opportunity. “Not if your
desire is to leave today.” He gave Elizabeth a knowing smile, “Off with you.”
The carriage bumped down the drive and on to the main road. Mr. Darcy
had taken her hand the moment he sat next to her. She found herself comfortable
and nervous at the same time. During the time of their engagement she had grown
so comfortable that she had no trouble teasing him but now as his wife she felt
herself keeping the playfulness he enjoyed (even though he sometimes acted
cross) in check. Mr. Darcy had no such qualms and was greatly pleased that they
were finally alone. He turned toward her and caressed her cheek with his hand,
gently lifting her chin to meet his kiss; a lingering kiss that made the back
of her neck tingle. With as much pleasure she kissed him back. Their lips
parted and he held her face in his hands, gently kissing both eyes and her
nose. She giggled, a bit of silliness mixed with a bit of nervousness.
“You find this amusing?” He feigned distress.
She gave him a sweet smile, “I’m sorry. No one has ever kissed my
nose.”
He raised an eyebrow, “I am grateful to hear it but be assured it will
happen with some frequency now.” He kissed her nose again, then slipping an arm
around her waist, bringing her even closer to him, he kissed her again; a long,
ardent kiss. Elizabeth untied her bonnet and tossed it across the carriage on
to the other seat, laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She took
a deep breath. His coat smelled of lavender; his laundress must rinse his
clothes in lavender water she thought, how nice. He breathed in her essence and
wrapped his other arm around her in an embrace he had no desire to release.
His mind was still reeling from his good fortune; Elizabeth was his
wife and she was as happy as he. Unable to control the desire to touch her, he
ran his hand from her waist to her thigh, bringing it back to rest at her
waist. A small whimper escaped from her and she looked up at him. Taking him by
surprise she reached up, encircling his neck with her arms and kissed him with
an abandon that left him breathless. He smiled, his bride was not shy or
retiring, nor did he sense any fear. Tears of joy filled his eyes and he smiled
at the world; she was his, body and soul... and he was hers. What had he done
in his life that had made it possible for him to experience so much bliss?
The carriage stopped at the inn so the horses could be watered and
rested. Elizabeth sat up and reached for her bonnet.
“We do not have to alight if you would prefer staying here,” he
offered.
“How long will it be?”
“An hour, perhaps less. Would you like to get some refreshment?”
Teasingly she reached up and gave him a quick kiss. “That’s all the
refreshment I need.”
He gathered her to him crushing her bonnet between them. He kissed her
thoroughly, this time leaving her breathless. “I required a bit more
refreshment than did you.”
They talked while waiting for the horses. She was animated as she told
the story of a cousin on a shared trip to Bath. He loved to watch her and the
sound of her voice was, to him, like an angel song. He could listen to it
forever. He took delight in everything about her.
Once the horses were rested they continued their journey and in a
short time had reached their destination; his London house. He wanted their
first night together to be at home, not in some roadside inn or guest room at
the house of a friend. No, he wanted it to be their home. In truth he wanted to
take her to Pemberley but it was almost two hundred miles away and would take
several days of travel. London however was only 24 miles from Longbourn which
required only a few hours. He handed her down from the carriage, her bonnet in
her hand. The housekeeper and butler were waiting. It was customary for the
entire staff to greet the master and his new wife but Mr. Darcy specifically
requested they not. He wanted Elizabeth to feel comfortable and not overwhelmed
by people she did not yet know.
The housekeeper curtsied and the butler bowed, “Master Darcy. Mrs.
Darcy.”
A radiant smile brightened Elizabeth’s beautiful face when she heard
it. She looked up at him still beaming from the compliment. She was Mrs. Darcy,
her delight knew no bounds.
The butler stepped out, “I will see to the trunks, sir.”
“Fine, Willoughby. Thank you.”
Darcy took Lizzy’s hand and led her into the house, the housekeeper
and butler following behind. They stood in the entry and Elizabeth looked
around. There was a small tightening of her stomach. She had never seen this
house but Jane had. Her sister had come here to pay a call on Bingley’s sisters
and was treated very ill by them. Mr. Darcy had stood on the second floor
landing and watched it all happen. Knowing that Bingley would have wanted to
see Jane had he known she was in town, Darcy had purposely not relayed the
information. After Lizzy’s reproof of his actions he apologized, several times,
for his officious interference; to Mr. Bingley and herself. Still, knowing this
was the place of her sister’s humiliation and hurt took some of the joy out of
the fact that this house was now her home. The joy she saw on his face when he
looked at her drove all other thoughts away.
As Mrs. Thatcher helped the bridal couple with their coats and hats
Darcy offered to show the house to his new bride.
“I can do that Mr. Darcy,” insisted his housekeeper.
“Thank you Mrs. Thatcher, but I want to show my wife her new home.” He
couldn’t tell the woman that he did not want to leave his wife even for a short
time. This was their day and they would spend it together with no
interruptions. Taking her hand he made his way through the entire first floor.
The house was beautiful and very old; Elizabeth wondered just how long
it had been in the family. The furnishings were even more impressive than the
house for they were modern; obviously not left over from his mother which meant
he must have done it himself. There was no pretension, no extravagance, not
overdone as were many wealthy homes she visited. Through these thoughts she
heard him say that she could redecorate anyway she liked.
“I very much like it the way it is.”
“Truly?”
“It is in extremely good taste.” Playfully adding, “If virtue and
taste had a correlation you would be a saint.” He smiled at her little joke
that was also a supreme compliment.
They were in the east sitting room when Mrs. Thatcher announced that
dinner was served. The small talk at dinner was mostly about the rooms in the
house she had yet to see and a discussion as to how much time they would spend
here.
“As you must know, I am a country girl at heart. I have always found
the city to be dirty, crowded and generally unpleasant. I only enjoy coming
here to visit with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.”
“So you would prefer Pemberley be our home.”
“I can imagine no better. But I know you prefer the city.”
His delighted smile lit up his whole face. They had never discussed
where they would live but he was exceedingly happy that she felt as he did. The
city was a necessary evil as far as he was concerned and he was unsure why she
thought he liked it and said as much.
“You told my mother that the country was confined and unvarying.”
“Ah. You have a selective memory. My comment was to you as regarded
your proclamation that you are a studier of character and particularly
intricate characters. Hence my comment that a country setting could not allow
the variety that the city would.”
“It is to my disadvantage that you have such a good memory, Mr.
Darcy.”
And so it was decided with a playful squabble that Pemberley would be
their home.
He walked around to her side of the table and offered his hand. She
stood. He lifted her chin and kissed her. “Come, I will show you the rest of
your house.”
“My house?”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy. What is mine is yours.”
Leaving off the servant’s quarters and kitchen Mr. Darcy took
Elizabeth to the only rooms on the second floor that his bride had yet to see.
“This is your dressing room,” he said as they walked through the door.
“I asked Mrs. Thatcher to make it more suitable for a woman than it was. As I
said before you can make it to your liking.”
“It certainly looks functional and that is really all I require. In
time I may want to do something with it but at present it suits me.” On tip toe
she kissed him. “Thank you.” He loved that she wanted to kiss him and did, that
she acted on her desires without concern to propriety.
The next door, or rather two doors as the room had large double doors
was their bed chamber and once again he said she could change anything in it.
She looked around a bit more closely than she had to any of the other rooms. It
too was decorated with exceptionally good taste. Sitting in front of a window
that overlooked Belgrave Square was a small table with chairs on either side.
At the fireplace were two small but elegantly upholstered chairs, a sofa as
well as another table. The bed was nothing like she expected, not that she had
given it much thought but she assumed a bachelor would have had a large, heavy
extravagantly carved bed. But like the rest of the house this was an
understated, stylish piece with turned posts that rose a few feet above the
bed. There was no canopy or heavy draperies and the lovely damask bed cover
appeared to be made of silk.
“Does our room meet with your satisfaction, Mrs. Darcy?”
“It is lovely. You do have exceptional taste.”
“Of course I do; I married you, did I not?” He took her in his arms
and they kissed. He followed the contours of her body with his hands and drew
her to him. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their
lips parted and she laid her head on his chest. He leaned his chin on the top
of her head and thanked God for his happiness at this moment.
“Would you like me to ring for tea?”
Without raising her head she nodded, “Yes, that would be very nice.”
“I have chocolate every evening before retiring. Would you like
chocolate rather than tea?”
“I have only had chocolate once and found it quite bitter.”
The knock came on the door and Darcy bade the maid to enter.
“Please have cook fix a tray of chocolate for both of us and tea as
well.” The maid curtsied and left.
“Chocolate and tea, Mr. Darcy; is that not extravagant?”
“A bit, I suppose. I want you to have tea should you not like the
chocolate.” He paused, “Shall we ready ourselves for bed while we wait?”
A pretty pink blush rose in her cheeks. “As you wish.”
“You do not wish?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, you do not?”
She gave him a quick kiss, took a step back and curtsied. Giving him a
radiant smile she said, “I will return post haste.”
She turned and slipped into her dressing room, pulling the bell to
summon her maid. She sat down on the upholstered stool at the dressing table
and began to take down her hair.
Mary came in, “Miss Elizabeth,” she said as she curtsied. Her face
went bright red, “I’m so sorry. Mrs. Darcy.”
She smiled at the young woman, “Fear not. I am not yet accustom to it
either. Miss Elizabeth is fine when we are alone.” She turned her back to the
maid, “Will you help me out of this please.” With Mary’s help Elizabeth slipped
on a pale pink handkerchief linen nightgown, embroidered on the yoke and at the
hem. She sat once again at the dressing table as Mary brushed her hair tying it
at the back of her neck with a single pink ribbon. Mary smiled at her
reflection in the mirror, stepped back and curtsied. Elizabeth took a deep
breath and went into the bedchamber.
Her gown brushed the tops of her bare feet as she glided toward him.
He was taken with her beauty. He had many times dreamt of how she would look at
this moment but the reality was far superior to any dream. Back lit by the fire
in the fireplace the outline and contours of her body were clearly defined, her
figure perfect under the gossamer fabric of her gown.
She had never seen a man in such a relaxed state of dress (except her
father in his dressing gown). His shirt was unbuttoned and no longer tucked
into his britches, Elizabeth thought him the most handsome man she had ever
seen. Within only a few inches of each other they were startled by a knock at
the door.
“Enter.”
“Where would you like it Mr. Darcy?” the maid asked.
“At the fireplace, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Slightly embarrassed Elizabeth stood behind him as the maid deposited
the tray on the table near the fireplace, curtsied and left. Darcy turned to
her as the latch on the door caught.
“I am anxious to know if you like the chocolate. Come,” he said taking
her hand.
Elizabeth sipped the hot chocolate and looked at him over the edge of
the cup, her eyes seductive through the veil of her eyelashes, she smiled. This
chocolate was sweet and creamy and it occurred to her that it would make very
good ice cream and said as much. He was pleased that he had introduced her to something
she enjoyed so much and blushed slightly at the thought that he hoped it would
not be the only thing she enjoyed tonight.
The talk was small and for the most part comfortable although as time
passed Elizabeth became a bit nervous, she felt no fear but the excitement of
what was to come made her stomach nervous.
Darcy too was a bit anxious, unsure what her reactions might be. He
watched as she stirred the froth on the chocolate then gently drew her cocoa
covered finger through her teeth and across her tongue. Her innocent act spread
heat through his body; a heat he hoped to ignite in his wife. In spite of the
passion and desire that made him want to take her without preamble, his first
concern was her comfort; he did not want to frighten her. He had heard men
discuss their wedding nights and even as a young man wondered why the men
seemed to have no concern for the feelings of their brides. He resolved then
that he would not be so presumptuous.
She rose and Darcy grabbed her hand as she set her empty cup on the
table between them and pulled her on to his lap. Startled, her stomach jumped,
but his deep and passionate kiss turned the start to an intense tingle. He held
her tightly around the waist, her arms around his neck. Their lips parted and a
small smile curved his lips, he released his embrace but she was wont to move,
she loved being so close to him.
Gently he forced her to her feet. He saw the question in her eyes when
she looked up at him but he said nothing. He stood up and removed the ribbon from
her hair, allowing it to float to the floor. His gaze never leaving her face,
he slowly began to unbutton the tiny pearls that closed the neck of her
nightgown. Elizabeth sighed deeply and using every bit of courage she reached
for the buttons on his britches. He sucked in a breath and stood straighter.
She immediately withdrew her hand, embarrassed. They both blushed red.
Elizabeth’s head dropped as she stared at the floor.
She had startled him, in all the wedding night stories he had heard, a
bride had never done such a thing. He quickly gathered himself, with a finger
under her chin he gently lifted her face to him and saw a tear escape her eye.
With his thumb he brushed it from her cheek, then cupping her face in his hands
he kissed each of her eyes, her nose and kissed her mouth so thoroughly that
all mortification fled and when their lips parted she leaned against him. He
took her hand in his and together they unbuttoned his britches.
Elizabeth looked up into his eyes and he saw the same longing that he
felt, gently he pushed the fine linen gown from her shoulders and they watched
as it fluttered to the floor at their feet. He pushed his britches and drawers
down to meet her gown and she helped him shrug off his shirt. In a single
smooth motion he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
She was extraordinarily beautiful laying there, her dark hair against
the white linen, her body limned by the firelight, she was breathtaking and he
was thrilled that she made no effort to cover herself or turn away from him. He
lay down next to her and rolled on to his side, propping himself on his elbow.
The heat he felt came not from the fire but his desire and he wanted nothing
more than to ignite that same desire in his dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. The
spark he saw in her eyes as she smiled up at him was the promise he longed for.
With a feather soft touch he caressed her face. She sighed as his hand
slowly moved down the length of her body coming to rest on her abdomen. He
leaned down and kissed her, a small whimper escaped her throat as his hand
cupped her breast. She wrapped her arms around his neck, extending the kiss. He
slipped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, his beloved laying
lightly on top of him. She sighed deeply as his hands began a slow, deliberate
exploration of her lithe body. The slow burn that had been held in check by
both of them ignited into a bonfire. And so it was, their life together had
begun.
After taking a very deep breath Jane chuckled. Could she not have
imagined the Darcy’s wedding night? Oh, yes she had imagined it, many times. It
was easy to imagine, she simply remembered the American’s gentle touch and
kisses.
She had no regrets; the twenty first century was no place for her. No,
her place was here with kith and kin. Except for some of the societal changes,
there was little in the future that beckoned her sensibilities. Mr. Darcy, of
course and for that she would always harbor a bit of envy of Miss Knight for
she had the opportunity to experience the Virginian… maybe even have her own
wedding night with Mr. Darcy.
Turning away from the window Jane sighed. And so it was.
Yours Affectionately, Jane Austen is available in the following:
Amazon Kindle
Amazon Trade Paperback
Barnes & Noble Nook
Personal Information for Sally Smith O'Rourke:
Austenticity (the everything Austen site)
Blog
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Twitter (@Chawton1810)
Below is the trailer for Yours Affectionately, Jane Austen. Enjoy!
Thank you, Sally, for sharing such an exquisite story with us. I have to say that I found it as exceptional as your books.
The giveaway is for Yours Affectionately, Jane Austen. It is international for eBooks and domestic for paperbacks. To be entered please leave a comment below. Be sure to include your email address in the comment. To prevent unwanted spam, put your email address with an (at) instead of @. Winner will be chosen in a random drawing. Giveaway ends at midnight, May 21. Good luck.
A Fair Prospect: Darcy’s
Dilemma by Cassandra Grafton
