Darcy and Fitzwilliam: A Tale of a Gentleman and an Officer

All right, I think I’ve been very good and deserve my reward. I can allow myself another quarter hour to watch him again. She rolled over to lie on her stomach facing him. My heavens, he’s so handsome. What a wondrous gift you have given me, dear Lord. Whatever could I have done to deserve this much happiness?

“Elizabeth?” He said her name softly, his eyes still closed.

She pulled up the sheets to just beneath her eyes, which were sparkling with anticipation.

“Elizabeth,” he repeated, “are you watching me again?”

They were both lying on their stomachs, each facing the other, both bathed by the same streaming sunlight. She knew if she kept very still and didn’t answer him, he would open those beautiful eyes. She just had to be patient. Just wait a moment longer… just a moment… aaahhh!

And suddenly, his one visible eye popped opened, and she giggled, still hiding her face up to her lashes. “Good morning, husband,” she whispered, closing her eyes tightly, giddy with the knowledge that she would soon receive the first of her morning kisses. She puckered her lips.

After what seemed like an eternity she felt a soft kiss on her forehead and then on her nose and finally on her lips. “Good morning, beautiful one,” he said dreamily. His morning beard stubble tickled her, and she rubbed her face quickly. He raised himself up on his elbow and pushed her hair back from her forehead. “Did you sleep well, little angel?”

“Yes, very well. And you?”

“Like an earl.” He laid his head back down very near her face, their noses almost touching.

“Is that good or bad?” she whispered.

“I don’t really know. I am too tired this morning to care, and too happy.” He reached for her and pulled her close. “You were very enthusiastic last night, Lizzy.”

She blushed and buried her head in his neck. “William! Please have a care! You’ll embarrass me!”

“Why? How could I? It’s just us here. No one listening, no one to hear our enthusiasms.” He softly kissed her mouth and stared into her sweet face. She was all sweetness and delicate femininity, with beautiful eyes, rosebud pink lips, and a quick mind that kept him always on his toes.

He reached down and began to tickle her sides. “And besides,” he whispered, “young lady, if you would be a little quieter, you wouldn’t have to be so embarrassed.” His tickling intensified as they tussled, both laughing, tears streaming down her cheeks. He held her fast around her waist and pulled her closer to prevent her tumbling from the bed.

She squealed, giggled, and squirmed, and as he laughed at her excitement, he found himself becoming excited in a wonderfully different way. Unfortunately, however, in their gyrations, her hand had mistakenly grabbed the bellpull.

She broke from his grasp and raised herself up, turning toward him with her pillow high above her head ready to strike, naked as the day she was born. Almost too late, she heard the doorknob turn, signaling the imminent arrival of her husband’s valet. She lunged for the floor.

“You rang for me, Mr. Darcy?” Raising one eyebrow was the only outward evidence that Darcy’s valet Bradford was aware of the bloodcurdling shriek that had greeted his entrance. Well, there was that and the flutter of the bed cover and a thud that was heard on the side of the bed not within his view.

Darcy, lying alone in the middle of the massive antique structure, smiled broadly. “The devil you say. No, Bradford, I didn’t ring for you.” He rested his clasped hands casually behind his head, looking very smug and quite cheerful, closing his eyes and grinning when a disembodied and very heartfelt “ouch!” was heard from the floor beside him.

“Well, this is quite the quandary, is it not? Perhaps Mrs. Darcy rang for you. She was here only a moment ago.” Bradford discreetly turned his gaze away and toward the ceiling. Darcy lifted up the sheets to peer within. “Hello?” he called to his legs and feet. There were muffled pleas and giggles as the covers began to slowly be pulled off the edge of the bed.

Darcy waited for a while and then grabbed them back with a jerk, tucking them neatly around himself. Phantom murmured threats and muffled indignation could be heard, along with stifled laughter. A pillow sailed up from the floor, which he easily deflected. “No, no I don’t see her anywhere. Perhaps she’s out riding.” He leaned his body over the mattress, off the far side of the bed, and looked down toward the floor. “Why, Mrs. Darcy, wherever have you been? By any chance did you ring for Bradford?”