Their Glory Continues



Part I – After the Honeymoon


Elizabeth Darcy sat at her desk in the room that was her study, the room that had been designated as such for the Mistress of the House.  Mrs. Winters, the housekeeper, had just left to check on how the luncheon fare was progressing.  The two ladies had spent the morning together touring the house.  Now, Elizabeth was completely overwhelmed.  Her mother had been diligent in ensuring each of her daughters was knowledgeable in how to run a house.  But Longbourn, her family home in Hertfordshire, was modest compared to the Darcy London townhouse.  Why it was twice, no thrice, the size of Longbourn and Elizabeth was beginning to doubt her abilities to assume quickly her new duties as Mistress of this house.  Added to that was that thought of her husband’s estate, Pemberley, in Derbyshire, she knew it was twice the size of this house or even larger and that added further weight on her slim shoulders.


Also, she was feeling somewhat guilty for leaving her initiation to her new duties for almost two weeks, especially since she had been upstairs ensconced in her husband’s bed chamber during that time getting to know her husband quite intimately.  Spending days and days abed with her husband had proven quite rewarding and immensely pleasurable but now she had to pay the piper by stepping into the real world of Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.  She smiled, however, as she concluded that being Mistress of her husband’s bed was well worth the price she would pay by being Mistress of his houses.


Her thoughts turned to her duties of being the Mistress of his bed.  Never had she imagined that it would be the best part of marriage.  Before they had married, she had come to love him – he was the best man she had ever met.  His character was sterling, his mind was excellent, his heart was pure, his physical presence was handsome but also exuded strength and virility.  If he had any flaws, it was that he was a tad shy, which caused him to appear reserved and arrogant on first making his acquaintance and that impression continued until he knew one better.  Also, he did not suffer foolish and pretentious people gladly; in fact he tended to avoid them.


When she walked into his chambers on their wedding night to find him completely naked, she found that those flaws were non-existent when it came to his relationship with her.  He was open and engaging and not afraid of relating to her those aspects of his life that did not always put him at his best advantage.  The way he handled her foolishness in resisting consummating their marriage vows was testament to his strength of character and his love for her.  Now her estimation of him was that he was not only the best man she had ever met but the best man to have ever lived!


Thoughts of her wedding night brought about an image of her husband that caused her to look at the cheery fire blazing in the fireplace.  She could see her husband standing there naked with his arm resting on the mantle.  His erection was hard and firm.  He had jutted out his hips to make sure she noticed that part of his anatomy that required her attention.  He was swaying his hips as if to make his shaft appear to be flying like a flag in the breeze.  Oh! How she loved his body, especially in its natural and aroused state.


Soon her body began to react to the image in her mind.  She felt her nipples harden, almost painfully so.  She reached her hand up to one of them to relieve its pain only to have a wave of desire flow to the area between her legs and her inner core moistening in preparation for her husband’s assault into her most secret place.  Ah! What agony!  Where was her husband when she needed him most?  In his study with his secretary – that’s where. 


In her quandary on how to relieve this assault on her body, there came a knock on the door.


Thinking it might be her husband seeking the same release that she required, she rushed to the door and threw it open to find…


“Mrs. Winters!”  Realizing that her nipples were protruding through the bodice of her dress by her estimation of about four to five inches, she quickly crossed her arms over her chest.


“Mrs. Darcy, luncheon will be ready to serve in thirty minutes. Is that suitable?  It can be delayed if need be,” Mrs. Winters smiled as she delivered her message and noticed that her mistress seemed to be aroused.  She was quite pleased that her dear boy had married such an ardent woman, a woman that seemed to be well matched with his passionate nature.  From their earlier conversation, she learned that Mrs. Darcy was a hearty, country lass with a heritage that made her predisposed to be able to bear the master many fine, healthy children.


“Have you informed Mr. Darcy of the luncheon time?”  Elizabeth asked, hoping to have an excuse to seek him out.


“No, Mrs. Darcy, I was just going to do so after receiving your approval,” Mrs. Winters said.


Fishing for information on Mr. Darcy in hopes that he might be alone, Elizabeth asked, “Is his secretary still with him?”


“No, Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Andrews returned to his office about twenty minutes ago with what appears to be quite a bit of work to accomplish,” Mrs. Winters replied.


Excellent!  I hope my husband is as desperate as I am.  Elizabeth smiled as she said, “I will tell Mr. Darcy and if there is any change, we will ring for you.”


“Very well, Mrs. Darcy,” she said, returning her new mistress’s smile.


Elizabeth turned to go down the hallway as Mrs. Winters turned to go back downstairs.  After a few steps, Elizabeth turned around and called, “Mrs. Winters?”


“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.”  The housekeeper turned back.


“Just how do I get to Mr. Darcy’s study from here?” sheepishly Elizabeth asked.


“Down the hall, take your first right and it is the third door on your right,” was the response.


Elizabeth continued on her way, calling over her shoulder, “Thank you, Mrs. Winters, you are a treasure.”


Mrs. Winters smiled as she watched Elizabeth make her way down the corridor.  No, my dear girl, it is you that is the treasure!




Mr. Darcy had spent a very productive morning with his secretary, Mr. David Andrews.  Mr. Andrews had everything organized for him when he entered the study.  They tackled most of the paperwork and invitations that had piled up since before his wedding.  Darcy had just sent Andrews off to his office with about two full days of work for the poor man.  The items remaining on his desk required concentration and thought before rendering a decision and he would spend the afternoon engaged thusly.


Glancing at the clock on the mantle, he realized that there was still almost three quarters of an hour until lunch time and that he would make the most of that time by getting a head start on his afternoon.  Maybe it would earn him some extra time with his wife.  His wife! He had been so busy trying to work through all the documents on his desk he had hardly thought of her.   But the thought of her soon made him give up returning to his work as images of his wife flooded his mind. 


He had left his wife almost four hours ago; now it seemed an eternity.  How had he ever managed without her?  Feeling the stirrings of an arousal, he leaned his head back and chuckled to himself.  Four hours, he had not gone this long without partaking in the pleasures of his wife since his wedding night.  Even at night when they should have been sound asleep, one or the other would wake up demanding satiation from the other – occasionally occurring more than once in a night.  His libido had not been so active since he was a teenager when he had spent hours and hours in his bed gratifying himself, just to do it again and again until he could hardly walk.  He would even pretend to be sick just so he could stay in bed and play with himself.  That was until his father sent for the doctor to determine what was wrong with his son.  It was quite embarrassing having to explain to his father that a doctor was not necessary.  After that he was too embarrassed to claim illness even if he was.  Then there were those days he spent with the courtesan where she was constantly arousing him in the pursuit of his lessons on how to be sexually proficient for his wife. 


His mother was a Fitzwilliam and he had inherited from her the tendency of Fitzwilliam men to have an overactive sexual drive.   However, having the Darcy birthright, he was an honorable man.  He had long ago promised his father to curb that particular tendency from his mother’s side of the family until he was married.  His struggle with celibacy had not been too difficult until he had met Elizabeth Bennet now Elizabeth Darcy.


His wife was the only woman in his adult life that stimulated his sexual desire to a most painful point.  Yes, there had been the odd lady that made him feel a twinge of desire but Elizabeth had done that the first time he made her acquaintance and that desire grew steadily the longer he knew her.  When he married her, he knew she was an innocent maid and that he needed to be careful exposing her to that side of him lest he frighten her away and then be refused the pleasures he most desperately sought.  After finally consummating their marriage vows, he realized that he had awakened in her the same passions and sexual appetites that were within him. Any control he anticipated over those desires was flung out the window.  He was living every man’s fantasy – having a wife that was as sexually insatiable as he. 


While he was physically attracted to her at first, which was an almost unheard occurrence for him as most women seldom ever attracted his attention in that way, he found the more he was around her that he was attracted to her mind and personality as well.  She was vivacious, she was intelligent, she was witty and playful, and she had a kind and caring heart for those around her.  She had no pretensions, she cared little for his wealth and social standing, and she really did not care much for him until he had proven to her that he was not quite as bad as she imaged.  It was a long, hard road to win her good opinion but it has proven, a hundred times over, well worth the journey.


With thoughts of his wife, a mental image of her appeared as he stared at the fireplace.  There she was standing naked before the fire with her arms behind her back as she warmed them along with those cute buttocks of hers – Oh! How he loved to grab hold of them as he thrust himself into her warm and moist depths.  As he felt his arousal growing, he decided that thrusting into his wife was a thought he should dwell on later, as when she was available in person to be thrust into.  But back to the vision by the fire, she was softly turning her body from side to side causing her breasts to sway and her nipples were puckered into hard tight buds just begging for him to suckle.  Oh! G_D! He was fully erect now and his breeches were constricting him quite painfully.  He looked to his lap and saw the bulge in his breeches that would be impossible to hide if he tried to venture to the dining room for lunch.  And the distance to the dining room was such that he was bound to encounter someone en route and they would be sure to notice.  If he had worn dark beeches today it would not be so bad but these light colors accentuated every bulge even when it was not so painfully aroused.


He was uncertain as to what to do about his situation; he was too far aroused to gain control of it so the only relief would be release.  Pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket and laying it on the desk, he then proceeded to unbutton his beeches.  Once that was completed, he slid them down past his hips so he would have plenty of room and space to work.  Grabbing his manhood at the tip, he slowly stroked down to the base of his shaft where he placed his thumb and forefinger around his manhood as the rest of his fingers cupped his balls.  He had just begun to wave his erection back and forth to limber it up for his subsequent assault on it when there came a knock on the door.


Immediately he froze as his manhood continued to sway.  Looking down, he grabbed it to still it.  Then he grasped the waist of his breeches as he stood and pulled them up.   Growling, he called, “Yes, who is it?”


“Fitzwilliam, it is Elizabeth.  May I come in?”


Hearing his wife’s voice, he relaxed to the extent that his breeches slipped down his thighs.  “Yes, please come in,” he softened his voice. 


Elizabeth opened the door and poked her head around the door and smiled as her eyes immediately went to his erection that was at full mast.  The fact that his breeches were down around his knees made her chuckle; he is even needier for sexual gratification than she was. 


Slipping inside the door, she bolted it and turned to her husband, “I see you anticipated me.  Although the image that came to mind in my study did not have you clothed and your hips were jutted out to exhibit more prominently that appendage of yours that you are so proud to sport around our chambers.”


He grinned, “Yes, well I had a similar image of you standing before the fire without any clothes on softly swaying your breasts while your nipples were puckered and hard with your desire for me.”


She rolled her eyes and unconsciously crossed her arms across her breasts.


He laughed, “Come, Elizabeth, I am obsessed with your bosom.  Do you not think I would not notice that your nipples are protruding through your gown?”  He held his hands about six inches apart to show his exaggerated perception of just how far her nipples were protruding.  


She gasped at his cheeky retort as she lowered her arms and placed her hands on her hips and straightened her back so her bosom was displayed to its full advantage.  Not knowing what had caused the phenomena of her nipples having grown since her marriage, she was sure he was not exaggerating about how far they were protruding through the bodice of her gown.   It must have been caused by all the fondling and suckling of her breasts that he so enjoyed that caused the increase in her bust size.


Laughing at her display of her ripe and ready nipples, he started to walk toward her until it became evident that he would make slow progress unless he did something with the breeches.  Deciding whether to pull them up or take them off, he opted to take them off as they would just be in the way for what he was planning to do.  Once he reached her, he took her elbow and led her to the sitting area by the fire.


Upon reaching his chosen destination, he put his hands on her breasts and began pulling on her buds as he asked, “Will you undress for me?  I am in anxious need to fondle your breasts without any impediments.  Besides I have removed most of my clothing.”


“Are you out of your mind, Fitzwilliam?  You want me to get naked here in your study with less than a half hour before lunch time.  I will never been able to get all my clothes back on after I have satisfied your carnal lust.  And why are you not fully naked?  I would like to be able to play with your nipples as well.” Elizabeth was more than willing to partake of a quick tryst because her body was definitely aching for the satisfaction only he could provide.  But could she not just lift her skirts and let him thrust into her again and again and again and again.  Oh! This is getting more painful, she thought as she imagined him continually thrusting into her.  Besides she wanted him in her now, she needed to feel him inside her to vanquish that longing she had for him.  She definitely did not have time to completely undress.


“But, Elizabeth, we can have lunch delayed while we sate this carnal hunger we both seem to have gnawing at us,” he pleaded with her as his pinched her buds to let her know what he was really hungry for.  In fact, he mouth was watering for what she was unwilling to bare to him.


“Yes, I know we can delay lunch but take this into consideration; by the time we ring for Mrs. Winters and give her instructions will be time that we will need to remained clothed.  And besides you are already halfway undressed and would have to put your breeches back on to receive her.” Glancing at the mantel clock, she continued, “However, if we start now, without my having to disrobe, there will be no need to hold lunch.”


She looked down at his manhood that was twitching in anticipation of being buried deep within her.  She smiled as she bent down to raise her skirts and petticoats to her waist, then turned around and bent over and placed her hands on the arms of a chair.  “Well, stick it in.  Time is short.   I have been ready for you since I left my study and I saw the handkerchief on your desk, so I know you were about to take things into your own hands, breaking the promise you made to me!”  Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “What are you waiting for?  I need you now!”


She is right!  Looking down at her cute buttocks, he plunged into her moist depths so vigorously that they both let out a loud moan.  Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were not subdued in expressing the pleasure that was received from the other.  The fact that it had been over four hours since their last conjugal congress only enhanced their vocal approbation.    




Meanwhile, downstairs in the housekeeper’s room, Mrs. Winters and Abernathy had settled down to a nice cup of tea and a chat about the new Mrs. Darcy.  Suddenly the door was flung open and a flustered Mr. Hudson, the butler, entered slamming the door behind him.


“Come quick, Agnes, and bring your keys.  Mr. Darcy has taken ill and I believe Mrs. Darcy has as well.”  Hudson huffed trying to regain his breath.


Agnes Winters jumped from her chair, “Where are they?”


“In the study, I tried to open the door but it was locked.” Hudson explained his need for her assistance.


Mrs. Winters looked at Hudson questioningly, “What leads you to believe they are ill?”


Hudson nodded, “I heard moans and groans from both of them and then she said something like ‘Yes, Fitzwilliam, let it all go’ and then I heard the Master grunting and then there was a loud groan and then he yelled, ‘Yes, Lizzie’ and then everything went quiet and there was a thump.  That is when I found the door locked and came down here to get the key.  I believe that they may both be quite indisposed.”


Mrs. Winters burst out laughing and sat back down. 


Abernathy was trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to control his mirth.


Mr. Hudson looked at them flabbergasted that they would laugh at the Master and Mistress’s distress.


When Abernathy finally regained some control of his laughter, he looked up at the agitated man and said, “Indisposed is correct! Hudson, my man, have you never heard a man and a woman in the throes of passion before?”


It took a moment for that question to sink in before Hudson’s eyes widened and his mouth formed an O as he slowly slumped in a nearby chair.  Then he looked at the other two, chuckled, and stated, “That boy made quite a match!”


Abernathy and Mrs. Winters said in unison, “Yes, he did, indeed!”



Back in the study, Darcy sat sprawled on the settee in front of the fire with his wife still impaled upon him. Her back pressed against his chest and her head lolled on his shoulder.  Both were gasping for air as they tried to recover from their latest connubial joining.


Elizabeth, regaining her senses first, turned her head and sucked her husband’s earlobe into her mouth. Releasing it, she whispered in his ear, “Do you want to go again?” as she ground deeply onto him where they were still joined.  Darcy usually would make her climax twice or more during any given session but in their eagerness to join a few minutes ago she had only reached one climax.  She felt deprived and not totally satisfied with their recent encounter.


“Lizzy!” he said astonished.  “I just cannot arouse myself at your command.”


“You make an awful good show of it.  If I show you a breast with a wicked grin, you are ready to warm that manly appendage of yours in me,” she chided him. 


“Yes!” he responded, “and if you had shown me your breasts when I asked earlier, you might have been given the satisfaction you so richly deserve.  But as it was…” he moved his arm around her neck and slipped his hand underneath the bodice of her gown.  With his long fingers, he began kneading her bare beast careful to avoid any contact with her very sensitive nipple just to torment her for her remarks.


She whimpered and squirmed as his teasing was an agony to her.  Unconsciously she reached up and lowered her sleeve down and then removed her arm from the sleeve, pushing down the bodice of her gown so that a breast was fully exposed.


Darcy grinned at her wanton need and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Yes, my Lizzy, I know what you want.  I am going to see you climax so many times that you will not be able to walk to the dining room.” He moved his head down and attached his mouth on her newly uncovered nipple and moved her other sleeve down so that both of her magnificent orbs were exposed. 


Lizzy’s response was immediate as a moan escaped her and her back arched as a wave of desire raced through her to the area where they were still one.  Her muscles tightened around him, pulling him further into her core.  They both gasped as they both felt his manhood stiffen and swell.


Then there came the knock on the study’s outer door.  Darcy growled at the interruption.  The reverberation sent another jolt through Lizzy’s body that took his manhood to its full potential.


Reluctantly, Darcy raised his head and shouted, “Who is it?”


“It is Mrs. Winters, is Mrs. Darcy still with you?” the housekeeper responded.


Darcy, being a man of few words, decided to let his wife handle this, after all she was Mistress of the House now, and went back to savoring his wife’s nipple.


“Yes, Mrs. Winters, I am still here,” Elizabeth replied, “Is there a problem?”


“There was a small mishap in the kitchen and luncheon will be delayed another thirty minutes,” explained Mrs. Winters.


Darcy then began his assault on his wife’s body by moving a hand to the part of her that was still conjoined to him.


“Thank…” gasp, moan, “you… ahhhh!.. Mrs. Wint…” moan.  Elizabeth was beyond speech at this point.


Mrs. Winters smiled and left the couple to their pleasures as she returned downstairs.




Mrs. Winters went straight to the kitchen and address the cook, “Mrs. Ashworth, please hold lunch another half hour,” pausing and reflecting on what she just said, “no, make that three-quarters of an hour.”


“Mrs. Winters, why?  I am not sure I can hold everything that long without ruining or burning all my lovely preparations.” Mrs. Ashworth complained about the delay.  As long as she had been employed in the Darcy’s house these past twenty years, meals had never been delayed.  It was unheard of.  The Darcys were a very punctual lot and expected that same punctuality from their staff.


Mrs. Winters put her hands on the table in front of Mrs. Ashworth and said, “Because I said so and that should be reason enough.”


Mrs. Ashworth glared at the housekeeper, clearly expecting a better explanation than she had received.


Leaning over the table until she was just inches from the cook, with a stern look Mrs. Winters whispered, “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are working on producing the next heir.”


Mrs. Ashworth was taken aback at first and then smiled, “I will make do.”


Smiling, Mrs. Winters left to go to her office to inform Hudson and Abernathy of her new intelligence.


“Again!” was Hudson astonished reply.


“After all, he has always been a big strapping boy.” Mrs. Winters countered.


“With the stamina of a team of six horses,” Abernathy opined.


Mrs. Winters said, “Well, at least he picked a healthy, robust country girl and not one of those thin fragile ladies that seemed to always be sniffing around him.  Mrs. Darcy comes from a large family.  She told me this morning that she is one of five sisters.”


“Sisters!” both Abernathy and Hudson rejoined.


“Mr. Darcy could care one jot whether his children are boys or girls, as long as they are healthy,” Mrs. Winters stated.  “Besides, that boy is too virile not to produce at least one son!”


Both men nodded at her evident truth.



Forty minutes later, after hastily putting themselves to rights, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy slowly made their way to the dining room where their luncheon awaited.


Darcy had made good on his promise to satiate his wife until she could not walk.  Elizabeth’s small hobbled steps made their progress agonizingly slow.  Leaning heavily on her husband’s arm, she struggled to move her legs as she was weak in the knees.  Not only was she exhausted from the multiple orgasms that he inflicted on her but he had found some positions that they had yet to discover.  One of which involved her having to keep her skirts out of her face while her heels rested on his shoulders. 


Mr. Darcy was not faring much better and was grateful for her small steps as he knew he could not hide his own halting steps if he was forced to resume his normal stride.  He was still reeling at the fact that she coaxed another erection from him so closely after the first and then demanded they rest after each one of her three climaxes before she would allow him to seek his own.  Teasing, teasing, woman!  But I showed her, I had her body so twisted and bent that I am sure she used muscles that had never been used in such a way.


After a five minute trek across the mansion, that should have only taken one minute, they arrived at the Summer Room.  It was a small, intimate dining room that was painted the color of summer grass.  Palms and ferns and other greenery abounded all around the room.  The fire in the fireplace had warmed the room until it almost felt like a summer’s day.  If it had not been for the few snowflakes floating through air outside the window, one would have thought they were a arriving at a picnic.


Upon entering the room, Elizabeth gasped, “What a beautiful room!  It feels like we are having a garden party.”


Darcy led her to the place to the right of his, at the head of the table.  Helping her settle herself in her chair, he responded, “I thought you would enjoy a touch of warmth and color to counteract this dreary weather.”


Smiling up at him, she said, “Thank you.  It is just what I needed.”


Seating himself, he rang for the soup to be served.  They were quiet as they ate, the warm nourishment helping to assuage their beleaguered bodies.


Elizabeth’s body began to relax as she ate her soup.  She wondered at the exhaustion she felt – like she had run ten miles.  Fortunately her muscles were just weak not sore but then she recalled that the activity she had most been engaged in over the past ten days had honed those muscles to a fine tone.


Darcy was also contemplating the exhaustion his body was experiencing.  Why two hours of fencing or a long gallop over the countryside would never leave his body in such a state! His manly parts were quite well used and just a touch tender. Thinking of being astride a horse right now, caused him to wince as he thought about his balls coming in contact with the pommel of a saddle.


Catching the wince on her husband’s face, Elizabeth asked, “Is everything all right?”  Concerned that he might have injured an important part of his body – or at least important to her, she continued, “You did not hurt yourself?” 


Elizabeth, it is nothing.  Everything is fine.  There is nothing the matter,” he curtly answered.


“Yes, there is.  Will you not tell me?” She was getting concerned.  He had been open and honest with his thoughts since their wedding and now he was refusing to express his thoughts to her.  She was now worried.


Darcy rang the bell to have the course cleared and the next one served.  Glancing over at her, he saw the hurt look on her face.  He lowered his head feeling ashamed of himself for being so gruff with her.


Both sat silently as the footmen performed their duties.  Elizabeth stared at her husband as he looked down at the table.


When the footmen had left, Elizabeth leaned toward him and softly said, “Fitzwilliam, you have been candid with me since we married.  What has changed that you can no longer be so?”


Darcy shook his head slowly.  He would have to admit the truth to her.  He would not have her believe that he did not trust her, nevertheless it was embarrassing.  Elizabeth, the distress you witnessed was caused by a passing thought.”  He looked at her as she patiently waited for him to continue.  “I was thinking about riding a horse.”


Her expression changed to confusion.


Taking a deep breath, he went on, “The thought of my private parts coming in contact with a saddle in their present state was painful.”


Lifting her napkin to hide her smile, she noticed him glaring on her.  This man has a sense of humor, where was it now?  As he continued his glare, she removed her napkin and asked, “And whose is at fault that your manly parts are in such a state?”


His glare continued as he answered, “Yours!”


Laughing, she exclaimed, “Mine?  You were the one that could not get your breeches off fast enough. I had not been in your study a minute before you had tossed them aside.”


Elizabeth, keep your voice down.”  Leaning closer, he hissed, “Yes, yours!”  Softening his voice to almost a whisper, he went on to enumerate his points with her, “First, you refused to bare your breasts to me when I asked you.”


She gave him a skeptical look.


“Next you accused me of not satisfying you and then requested a repeat performance when you knew I had not recovered fully from the last.”


She leaned toward him so that her face was but a few inches from his and answered him in the same low voice he had been using, “Yes, but I distinctly remember your poor, tired and used up manhood rising quickly to the occasion the minute your mouth began suckling my breast.  Then you made me climax again and again until you had to practically carry me in here.”


“Yes…but…but…” He was at a lost for words.  Why did she always have to be right!


Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and gently squeezed his hand, “We have learnt a powerful lesson today.”


Leaning back into his chair, he squeezed back, “And that is what, Mrs. Darcy?”


“That there is a price to be paid for pleasure.  But I am willing to pay that price if you are the one providing the pleasure,” she stated as she smiled at him.


Throwing his head back, he laughed.  He lifted her hand to his lips and left a lingering kiss on her palm, “Quite right, Mrs. Darcy.  The pleasures you bestow upon me are well worth any price.”


With the lovers having made their peace, they settled down to enjoy their meal.  Darcy discussed his morning and Elizabeth related her impressions of their home she had formed from the tour she had made with Mrs. Winters. 


Leaning back in her chair, soberly she said, “Fitzwilliam, I confess to being quite overwhelmed by taking on the duties as Mistress of this house.  The thought that Pemberley is twice this size seizes me up with fear.  I thought I was up to being Mistress of your homes but now I am not so sure.”


Taking her hand, he said, “Elizabeth, there is nothing to be afraid of.  I do not expect you to learn the minutiae of either house.  That is what Mrs. Winters and Mrs. Reynolds, at Pemberley, do.  All I expect from you is to make your likes and dislikes known.  If you have any changes you want to make, let them be known.  They will see to everything else.  Besides I trust your judgment.  You have proven to me that your wisdom and sense of style will suit my needs and tastes perfectly.”


“Thank you, Fitzwilliam, that makes me feel better.  But I still have to learn how to find my way around this monstrosity.”  She smiled at him.


“You will learn quickly enough and I am always willing to be your guide,” he offered.


She laughed.  “That might not be such a good idea.”


“Why?” He was a bit hurt by the snub of his offer.


“Because I find you too distracting and have many times lost my bearings when you are near, that’s why,” she smiled.



“Your cook is wonderful.  This meal is delicious,” Elizabeth commented as she savored her corn pudding.


“Our cook,” he gently corrected her.  She nodded. He continued on, “Yes, she is quite unique.  She is skilled in several different cuisines.”


Elizabeth inquired further into the kitchen arrangements by asking, “Is she our only cook?  I thought I heard Miss Bingley once mention that you…I mean we had a French chef.”


Darcy laughed, “Yes, well, Miss Bingley thinks we do.”


Raising her eyebrows, “And we do not?” 


He shook his head, “No, we do not.”


“But why does Miss Bingley think we do?” Elizabeth was curious as to why he had allowed Miss Bingley to have such misinformation.


“A couple of years ago I held a small dinner party for a few friends that included Bingley, his sisters, and Mr. Hurst.  Mrs. Ashworth had prepared the meal in the French style.  Why, I do not remember.  Miss Bingley began praising the meal to the roof saying that Lord so-and-so’s French chef could not hold a candle to mine.  She exclaimed that it had to be the most exquisite French meal this side of Paris.  Bingley, knowing better, went to correct her but I stopped him and just thanked her for her comments and thought nothing of it until several days later when my aunt, Lady Matlock, came rushing into the house demanding to see me.  She was in a state that I had a French chef and had not let her know.  She was planning a large dinner party, politely inviting me if I wanted to attend, and then wanted to know if she could borrow my chef for it.  I quickly sent for Mrs. Winters and Mrs. Ashworth and explained the mix up.  Those three women laughed so hard that tears were running down their face.  It took ten minutes for me to get those ladies under control.  But it was decided that Mrs. Ashworth would be loaned out to Lady Matlock whenever she was needed and Lady Matlock would provide a replacement at those times.  I rarely entertain much when I am in town and it seemed a waste of Mrs. A’s talents for them not be put to use.  So according to London society, I have a French and Spanish chef.  Lady Matlock has an Italian and Indian chef.  And Mrs. Ashworth is pleased as punch to pull the wool over the eyes of London society.  One night she even donned one of those white chef’s hats and painted on a thin moustache and sideburns and asked to be presented to my guests to receive her kudos.”


Elizabeth laughed at his story and commented, “I am looking forward to meeting Mrs. Ashworth; she sounds quite the character.  But you, sir, are very devious pulling a hoax like that.”


Elizabeth, I have no use for pretentious people who don’t have an original thought or make assumptions without the wit to ask for the particulars,” he said. “They deserve what they get.  I have seen it too many times where someone makes a faux pas and the next thing you know it is the latest rage.  You would think these people would have some sense but they all seem to live in the world of the Emperor without any clothes1.”


“The Emperor without any clothes?  Now that sounds rather Darcian!” Elizabeth remarked.


He raised an eyebrow and questioned, “Darcian?”


“Yes, of a Darcy,” she replied.  “Am I to hear a story of why you like to be naked so much of the time?  Or do you parade the streets of London naked with a sack cloth on your head so no one knows who you are?”


Darcy chuckled and shook his head, “Hardly!”  Then asked, “But do you not know the old folktale?”


“No, I do not recall ever hearing it,” she replied.


“Well, it seems that a man came to visit the Emperor insisting that he would make the Emperor a suit of clothes that would bedazzle and bewitch and charm all the inhabitants in the Empire.  But he said the suit would come at a high price.  The suit would be one of kind and no one else would be able to come close to matching it, though many would try.  Always one to have the best and finest, the Emperor agreed to the exorbitant price. Word was spread throughout the empire that the Emperor would be presented in the finest suit of clothes ever made.  People came from all around to behold this magnificent suit.  The day of the presentation came and the man arrived at the Emperor’s palace to dress him.  He entered the Emperor’s chamber with no suit of clothes and the Emperor was incensed, ‘Where are my clothes?’ ‘Why right here, sir’ ‘I do not see anything’ ‘That is because they are magical and when warmed by your body will display the golden threads glistening, the silver threads shining and the ruby and emerald cloth take on their own brilliant hues.’  The Emperor divested all the clothes he was wearing and the man began to act as if he were dressing him.  After awhile the man stood back and said ‘Absolutely stunning, Emperor!  No one will compare.’ The Emperor left his house and strutted down the street with the crowd cheering his new suit of clothes. Comments of ‘Breathtaking!’, ‘Stupendous!’, ‘Fabulous!’ were being shouted from the spectators.  That is until about half way down the street, a little boy ran into in the street laughing and pointing at the Emperor, shouting ‘The Emperor has no clothes on!’  The crowd gasped at the truth of the young boy’s statement and the Emperor, embarrassed, ran angrily back to his house.” 1


Elizabeth laughed at the story and then commented, “So you want to be the little boy in the story and point out everyone’s faults?”


“Heavens no, Elizabeth, I had much rather observe everyone’s folly.  How else will I know who is sincere and who is not?” he smiled at her.


“Fitzwilliam Darcy, I thought you to be a fine, upstanding, and honorable gentleman only to find that you are a true cynic.  It only makes me love you more.” She grabbed his hand and brought it her lips and bestowed a kiss on his palm.


He blushed and leaned closer to her, “I love you, too, Mrs. Darcy.  Are you ready for dessert?”


She nodded and picked up the bell to ring for dessert.




1 Hans Christian Andersen’s story The Emperor’s New Clothes was published in 1837 which is after when this story was set.  However Mr. Andersen’s story is based in oral folklore and it is not known when it originally began.  So I am taking the liberty in assuming that it was a known folktale during the time period of this story.





Onto   Part II – A Little Afternoon Delight 


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