Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (44 page)

“Dow.”  Rosalie scooted.

“Good.”  Elizabeth slid down another.  “Down.”

“Dow.” 

The study door opened and Darcy appeared, then startled at the sight of Elizabeth and Rosalie travelling the steps on their bottoms.  He crossed his arms and stood to the side, not saying a word until they reached the end.

“Good girl!”  Elizabeth cried, then picking her up, walked to the top of the steps.  “Never go down alone.”  She looked meaningfully at the staff, who all nodded.  “Now, show me how to go down.”  Instantly Rosalie sat and slid.  She looked backwards to her mother and received a warm smile.  “Go on.”  She slowly made her way to the bottom and Elizabeth, still at the top, clapped.  Rosalie clapped as well, and then squealed when Darcy arrived to pick her up.

“Good girl!”  He kissed her and smiled as Elizabeth joined them.  “What prompted that lesson?”

“She was going to walk down; and Mrs. Reynolds was going to suffer apoplexy.”  Elizabeth said softly. 

“Walk!”  Darcy looked at the steps and then to his happily babbling daughter.  “No wonder you closed the door.” 

“I did not want you to suffer apoplexy, either!”  She laughed and kissed him.  “Not on our anniversary!”

“Next time, do not tell me.” He clutched the baby and kissed her.  Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Robbins arrived, and he became stern.  “I presume that she will not escape often?”

“No sir.”  Mrs. Robbins sighed.  “We were going to take a walk and she went running for you.”

“I did not need to hear that either.”  He sighed.  “Running for me she falls down the stairs.” 

“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth smiled, “are you ready for
our
walk?”

“Yes.”  He set Rosalie down on the floor and knelt before her.  “Be good.” 

“Papa.”  She clasped his neck and gave him a wet kiss. 

“Thank you.”  He kissed her and rising, ruefully wiped his cheek with Elizabeth’s handkerchief.  “Goodbye, little love.” 

“Bye!”  She waved and in a flash, she had run off down the hallway. 

“She is your daughter.”  Darcy looked after her.  “She will have my hair gray before I am much older.”

“Just wait until you have some boys.”  Elizabeth laughed and he took her hand.

“Hmm, now that is something to work on.”  Walking to the door, a footman opened it and two horses were waiting for them.  “I thought that riding would be better.  We have some ground to cover.” 

“A tour?”  She held his shoulders as he lifted her up onto Emma’s saddle.  Darcy smiled up at her and fussed over her stirrup, then walked around to mount Richard.  “Will, where are we going?”

“An explanation is due.” 

“Ahhhh, at last.”  They set off at a leisurely pace around the house and to the small Pemberley graveyard. 

Darcy stayed on his mount and pointed.  “My mother, my father, my brothers and sisters.”  Elizabeth looked at the graves and back to him.  His expression was serious, but not pained.  “Their physical remains lie here.  These monuments mark that they existed, even though my sisters never breathed.”

“Will . . .”

He shook his head.  “Come.”  Turning his horse, he led the way back around the house and towards the lake, then down the pathway and through the trees. They rode silently, Darcy lost in thought as every piece of the puzzle came together, and the voice in his head was his father’s, cheering him on.  Elizabeth rode behind him, studying his straight back and confident form, and wondering what the connection was between his lost family and their glade.  When at last Richard poked his head into the clearing, Darcy rode forward a little then stopped, jumping down and tying him off.  Elizabeth waited for him to come around and help her off of Emma.  Bending forward she rested her hands on his shoulders, and his came around her waist to slowly slide her down and into his arms.  “Do you know where we are?”  He whispered into her hair and hugged her tightly.

“Tell me.”

“We are in the embrace of our family.” 

“I do not understand.” 

Darcy brushed her cheek with his fingers and leaned in to kiss her.  “Your tree.  Do you know why I planted it?”

“So that I would live on forever.”  She whispered when he turned her around to look at the young tree and its companion rose bush.  Darcy’s hands came around her waist and she leaned back against him. 

“It is an elm.”

“Yes.”  She looked back to him.  He smiled and taking her by the hand, he led the way on a walk around the perimeter of the glade. 

“All of the trees of the forest are oaks and pine.”  He waved over the view.  “Except . . .” He walked up to a formidable tree.  “This one.  An Elm.”  Pointing to the bark, she could see, barely, the letter “L”.  “This is for my brother Leighton.”  Turning her, they walked across the glade to another tree, the same size, and he rubbed it. “George.”  He pointed to two smaller trees, “my sisters.”  Again he walked her to the smallest tree but one.  “Mother.”  Darcy turned to Elizabeth and tears were running down his face.  “Mother could not bear to visit her children’s graves, but Father wanted her to have a place of peace to come and remember them.  They found this glade long ago, when they were the young couple seeking to escape the house where he was not yet master and she was not yet mistress.  They came here to be alone, and talk, and love.”  Darcy swallowed.  “Just as we do.”  He turned and looked around him.  “I found this place when I was so alone as a boy, and I would come here and feel safe and loved.”

“Safe in your family’s arms.”  Elizabeth whispered.

“Father told me of this place, but I did not understand; it always came in little bits.  Perhaps he wished me to discover it on my own.  Perhaps with you.”  He smiled and hugged her tightly.  “I thought that I was so brilliant planting your tree, but it was in my memory all along.” 

“What is that?” 

He held her hand and they walked over to a bundle of burlap.  Inside were two saplings.  Darcy let go and picked up a spade that was leaning against a tree.  “I realized that two trees were missing here.”

“Nobody knew to plant one for your father.” 

“And I thought . . .” He started to dig and Elizabeth watched him working.  Carefully she unwrapped the trees and holding one steady, he filled in the dirt, tamping it down.  He looked to where she was gently caressing the leaves of the other tree.  “Where should we put him?” 

“Next to his grandmother.”  Elizabeth said softly and they walked hand in hand to Anne’s tree.  “She is watching after him now.”  The steady sound of the spade removing soil mixed with the scattered birdsong, and soon, Darcy stood aside as Elizabeth held the living memorial in place.  Darcy placed the last of the  soil around it and tenderly touched the leaves.  She took his hand and entwined her fingers with his.  “Thank you.”

“I . . . I needed to do something.”

“You are still hurting, too?”

“I knew you were.  You just needed to not be so brave all of the time.”  He smiled and caressed her cheek, brushing away the tears.  “Now.”  He sniffed and smiled.  “I have saddlebags filled with . . . I do not know, but I am sure that it is both satisfying and delicious.”

Laughing, Elizabeth hugged him.  “Well, my goodness; let us go see what it could be!” 

“No fireworks this year, I hope you are not disappointed, we do not have a convenient pleasure garden to visit.”

“No, I am not disappointed at all.”  They reached the horses and he set down the spade.  Working the straps on the bags, he handed her a blanket and then removed a bag holding wine and another stuffed with food.  She laid out the blanket and laughed when she turned around to find him barefoot, coatless, and untying his cravat.  “What are you doing?”

“I intend to be very comfortable.”  Smiling directly into her eyes, he released the buttons on his waistcoat and let it join the rest of his clothes.  “You are overdressed.”

“I am?”  She looked down and gasped when he spun her around to unbutton her gown.  “Fitzwilliam!”  Darcy kissed the back of her neck and slipped the dress off of her shoulders to puddle on the ground.  He immediately untied her stays, leaving her clad only in her chemise and petticoat.  Drawing her back against his chest, he nibbled below her ear, while his palms worked tiny circles over her ever-tightening nipples. 

“How does it feel?”  He whispered, and then ran one hand down her belly to rub between her parted legs.  Elizabeth moaned when he pressed his rigid length against her back.  “Do you feel me?”

“Yes . . .”

“Do you want me?”

“Oh . . .” Elizabeth turned to kiss him, suckling his upper lip and slipping her tongue into his warm mouth.  Darcy wrapped her up tightly, bending, towering over her, one hand around her waist, the other buried deep in her hair and they stood swaying, exchanging deep, open-mouthed kisses.  At last they broke apart, breathing raggedly. Elizabeth closed her eyes while he rested his forehead to hers.  “Will, I want you so badly.”

“Tell me.”  He kept his focus on her warm, deeply reddened lips, and unable to resist, leaned forward to nibble them for a moment.  “Tell me what you think about when you desire me.  When you desire me but cannot have me.”  Kissing her again, he prompted, “21 June, 1811.  Today is our second anniversary and Fitzwilliam asked me . . .”

“Ohhhh, I look at you, and I imagine seeing you . . .” She paused and blushed, and received another encouraging series of kisses.  She looked back up to find his warm eyes smiling at her.  “You are clothed, you are working, you are on your horse, you are laughing, arguing, glaring at your cousins and friends, talking to me, staring silently across the room at me, and all I see is you, naked, aroused, wanting me. And all I think about is how much I love to love you.”

“What else?” He breathed into her ear.

“Touching you.”  Elizabeth’s hands slid down his chest to rest over his breeches.  “I think of how hard and . . .silky you are.  I think of . . .feeling how . . .” Her breathing became erratic, and she took his hand to rub between her legs as she rubbed him, “how you . . .fill me.”

Darcy’s touching ceased and he resumed the deep kisses.  Elizabeth hardly knew how it happened, but they had sunk down to the blanket and lay entwined together.  “Do you know when I think of you?”

“When?”  She sighed and caressed his cheek as she prompted him.  “21 June, 1811.  Today is the anniversary of the happiest day of my life . . .” Elizabeth laughed when he immediately kissed her.

“Whenever you laugh, whenever you smile, whenever you scold me, whenever you are angry, or sad, or tired, or . . .”  He smiled when she laughed again. “All of the time.  Constantly.  I cannot get enough, I never grow tired.  I can be writing a letter and I will hear you and want you.  I see you being mother to our baby, or our sisters, and I want you.  I see you being so strong as my wife and so vulnerable as my lover, and I want you.  I am hopeless and lost, and I am proud to tell you that after two years of marriage, I am as lovesick as ever. If possible I am worse.”  Darcy caressed her hair and lifted her chin to kiss her softly.  “Do you know where we are?  Do you recognize this spot?”

“Yes Will, I know this tree.”  She smiled at him then up to the gently swaying limbs far above them. 

“So do I; intimately.”  He smiled and laughed as she began tugging at his shirt, lifting it up and off, then tossed it in the grass.  “Happy now?”

“No, off.  These must come off.  All of it.”  She touched his breeches.

“I thought that you were hesitant?”  Darcy pursed his lips and felt her fingers rest against them.  He kissed the tips when she glared.

“Hush.”  Elizabeth tugged again and he unbuttoned his breeches, and lifted his bottom up so that she could pull them away, along with his drawers.  Standing up, she dropped the clothes and looked over the naked man lounging against the trunk, his right hand slowly stroking as he stared at her.  “This is the sight I imagine.  Do you know how . . .”

“As desirable as I find you.”  Reaching forward, he tugged at her petticoat.  “Come.”

Smiling, she stepped back to take off her boots, and slowly removed the chemise while his eyes drank in every curve, and marked every spot that he wanted to taste, and with a soft whoosh, the petticoat fell. She stepped over the fabric, over his legs, and knelt before him, to give a lingering kiss to his lips.  Dragging her forward, he helped her to unite.  His hands massaged from shoulder to bottom while hers glided into his hair and they kissed, finally ceasing all movement except for their exploring hands and mouths.  Elizabeth stopped, and resting her forehead to his looked down and touched where their bodies were joined.  Darcy’s hand clasped over hers and they rubbed together as she slowly moved.  “Lizzy . . .”  His other hand lifted her head back up to meet his hungry kisses, and wrapping his arms around her, drew her down to his chest, rolling so that he looked down and smiled at her.  “Now, what did you say the last time that we lay together under this tree?”

Elizabeth laughed.  “I believe it was something about . . . The next time we would need to make use of it.” 

“Well my love,” Darcy settled over her and smiled as he began to thrust.  “I cannot think of any better anniversary gift, can you?”

“No . . .”  She moaned as he ploughed deeply and clung to him.  “Will . . .”

“Nobody can hear us here, love!  Let go, please!”  Darcy stared down at her as he felt her rising rapture, and heard her calling his name.  “Yes!”  He cheered when her eyes flew open and fell upon her, moving faster to the rhythm of his need and at last kissing her as his own release came.  He nuzzled his face into her neck and breathed heavily.  “Ahhhh.”

“That was lovely.”  Elizabeth whispered against his hair.  Darcy nodded and sighed.  “Do you think that once was enough?” 

Lifting his head he smiled sleepily.  “No, but it will do for now.”  Sitting up, he picked up her chemise and he found his shirt.  “Just for modesty’s sake.”  He winked and grinned.

“How considerate of you.”  She laughed when he tried to dress her.

“Oh, love, have no fear, I will gladly disrobe you again. But for now, I am hungry for something besides you.”  His eyes twinkled, despite their darkened state.  “Although I have been thinking of nibbling you here all . . . winter . . . long.”  Each word was punctuated with another kiss.  Suddenly he rolled over and reached for the wine, and found two mugs.  Pulling the cork, he poured out two healthy amounts and handed her one.  “To you, and the glorious day of our wedding.”  He clinked his mug to hers, and watched as she cautiously sipped.  “Do you like it?”