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Elizabeth leaned up against her headboard, smiling down at Jane’s golden head that rested against her legs. She carelessly stroked her sister’s hair and began braiding it in strange plaits.

“What are you doing back there, Lizzy?” Jane tried to reach around, but Elizabeth easily avoided her grasp.

“I am helping, do not worry!” She giggled but then sighed softly, leaning back further and paying even less attention to her sister’s hair. “Can you believe that this is one of our last nights like this, Jane.”

Jane pushed herself up a little, moving a bit closer to her sister, “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” Elizabeth nodded, “But I am mostly excited.”

“Pemberley waits for you, does it not?”

“Sister!” Elizabeth laughed and rolled her eyes. “That is not why I am excited.”

Jane raised her own eyebrow.

“Alright, it is not the only reason.” Elizabeth could feel herself blushing. “It is certainly not the main one.” Unbidden, Darcy’s dark, entrancing eyes danced before Elizabeth’s vision. She could just about make out the swirl of browns and little flecks of green that she could see sparkle in his eyes when they caught the light just right.

“I know, Lizzy. I was just teasing you.”

“Are you nervous, Jane?”

Jane nodded. “I feel like I ought not to be, but I cannot seem to help it.”

“Well, we have never been married before, so I suppose some nerves mean we are just not stupid.”

“Lizzy!” Jane smiled. They let the silence sit for a few moments, and then Jane said, “I think we are going to be very happy the four of us. But come, we need to actually go to sleep, or we will be useless tomorrow for our men when they come.”

Elizabeth agreed and helped set Jane’s hair to rights and then blew out their candle. The room was suffused with the comforting darkness of night, and Elizabeth felt Jane go quickly to sleep next to her. The gentle rise and fall of her breath made Elizabeth feel slightly jealous. Jane was always a quick sleeper, and Elizabeth knew sleep, for her, would be elusive tonight. She bit her lip and tried turning onto her side. The darkness seemed more pronounced, but sleep did not.

It is because Fitzwilliam has been acting odd, and I do not want to admit it. Maybe if I just look starkly at the facts, I will be able to organize and understand them. Even if they lead me to a discovery I would rather not have, it would be better to discover that now rather than later, I think.  

She let herself sigh and snuggle back into the warmth of her sister’s back. It was strange, was it not?

Elizabeth pictured it as if it was happening again. This time she tried to see it as a third-party observer rather than an actor in the unfolding events. It had been earlier that day when Bigley and Darcy came to visit their betrothed. Mrs. Bennet tactlessly left the four lovers in the front room, with the understanding that each couple would act as the other couple’s chaperon. Of course, neither couple was that interested in watching the other, far too caught up in their own happenings.

Elizabeth and Darcy had been discussing a book he gave her a few days earlier that Elizabeth had just finished reading. It was one of Darcy’s favorite books, and when they had talked about it and Darcy realized Elizabeth had yet to read it, he wanted to give her a chance to enjoy the book that had made him laugh so much. Elizabeth had heard of Chaucer of course, she was a great reader after all, but she had not realized that the stories she had read from The Canterbury Tales had been carefully curated for her. She had thought she had read all the stories exactly as they had been written, but instead she had been given a highly edited volume when she was younger. Now, she was pleased that her future husband had no such qualms and had gifted her with a beautiful copy of the book. She had been a little more shocked than she expected with some of the ribald humor, not sure she would be able to discuss it with Darcy.

However, they easily fell into conversation about it, and Elizabeth had felt her heart lift. If this is a glimpse into my life to come, I am incredibly blessed. In her joy and excitement, Elizabeth thoughtlessly reached out to touch Darcy’s hand. It should have been a small, fleeting touch. The kind betrothed couples perform all the time. It really should not have mattered, Right?

Yet, Darcy had reacted like she had burned him. He had pulled his hand away quickly and tucked it carefully away. As if to ensure it was protected from her touch. It had been so strange.

He must think me terribly uncouth, reaching out to touch him directly on his skin. Does he just see me as some gauche country girl that does not even know how to act? She turned over again in the bed, feeling embarrassed and frustrated all over again. I thought we were past this kind of thing. It is so silly, surely. Just one little touch. She felt her eyes prick with tears, and Elizabeth gave into them, silently crying as she still tried to force herself to go to sleep.

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Darcy turned over yet again on the mattress in his room at Netherfield. It was a fine mattress and should not keep him from his sleep. Yet, he seemed incapable of finding rest this night. He groaned as he flopped over again.

He carefully kept his hands above the blanket that covered him and smoothed the cloth down. Darcy was trying very hard to reign himself in, something he had thought he was comfortable doing. Something he rarely had to work to do. But Elizabeth had changed all that for him.

A small smile crept across his face as he thought of his lovely fiancé. She is so beautiful and kind. He thought back on how carefully she made sure everyone felt. She was always concerned with the comfort of whoever was in the room she was in. It was something that truly astonished Darcy. Something he wished he could do with more ease. Maybe if I take her advice and practice, I will be better at it. He wanted to giggle to himself but felt a bit too silly to be that blatant, even with no one else in his room.

But that will soon change. Soon I will be sharing space with Elizabeth. His muscles tightened, causing his body to go rigid. And now we are back to the very thing I was trying to distract myself from thinking on too much.

I just desire her so much . . . it scares me. I have never felt this out of control before. And I do not want her to see me like this. To see me so incapable of controlling myself around her – it would be dishonorable. I need to be better.

I will be better. She is a maid, and I need to work to be sure not to overwhelm her or scare her with my ardent desire. She deserves all the best. And I will give it to her.

He smiled to himself again, caught up in thoughts of her. Her gentle touch from earlier today that set him on fire. He rubbed at the spot she had touched on his hand, which still felt branded by her. He looked down at it, wishing that a mark actually remained. He wanted everyone to see that Elizabeth wanted to touch him. He drifted asleep to thoughts of her holding his hand at Pemberley in blatant view of any, and every, person.

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One thing that was extremely nice about marrying a woman from the country rather than from town is that the expectations around proper chaperoning were quite relaxed. Darcy was again seated with Elizabeth having a lovely discussion. He could not believe he lived so long without such a bright mind in his life, And she has agreed to be my wife. That feels like I have somehow hoodwinked her. I cannot believe I have secured her hand.

He was brought back to the present moment by Elizabeth resting a hand gently on his arm. It was not quite the stark skin to skin contact she had given the day before, but he could feel her warmth through his clothes, which felt thinner than ever before. Something is wrong with me. Darcy actively worked to not capture her hand and to remain present instead of being carried away by her small, light touch. I should not be reacting so much to some fleeting touches, should I?  

Darcy wished he could whisper his fears and concerns in Elizabeth’s ear, but that seemed somehow too selfish and too self-focused. He needed to concentrate on what Elizabeth was saying to him. Besides, he wanted to enjoy the time they had together.

But it seemed like Darcy’s mind was not cooperating with him. It wanted to wander and wonder over the things that Darcy had been realizing about himself the past few days. 

Darcy allowed himself to luxuriate in the feeling of Elizabeth’s hand resting on his arm, and he even pulled it closer to him, so that her fingers were tucked in between his arm and his chest. Why am I so obsessed with Elizabeth’s touch? Is it natural? Is what all grooms experience before their actual wedding? Should I ask Bingley if he has the same issue. It cannot be normal surely, to feel it so very powerfully. Darcy was so lost in his thoughts he was not carefully marshalling his body, which had begun to slightly tremble at Elizabeth’s prolonged touch, especially as she sometimes let her fingers skate barely over the back of his hand.

Darcy loves it. He felt like he was trapped in an exquisite torture. No one but Georgie really touches me . . . not really. Even Fobbs is ruthlessly efficient and so good at his job that he is able to perform most of his duties without any contact at all. As Darcy considered the touches, and lack of touches in his life, he realized that Georgie had been markedly less demonstrative since last summer. Since Wickham. If this is how I am feeling, I wonder if it is affecting Georgie at all. I need to have her come down before the wedding. She should spend more time with Elizabeth anyway.

Elizabeth squeezed his arm, “Are you still with me, Fitzwilliam?”

He shook his head and met Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes, “Sorry, I was wool-gathering.” He forced himself to pay particular attention to what Elizabeth was telling him now, but he could not quite ignore the lovely feeling of Elizabeth’s careful touch. He wanted more.

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Elizabeth called Darcy’s attention back and reiterated what she had been describing about the coming wedding. Yet, now, she found herself having a hard time concentrating. Her hand was still trapped in between Darcy’s arm and his body. It felt wonderful, but it seemed to emphasize the strangeness of her still having her hand on his arm.

Is it strange? Surely not? And yet. . . when I first touched him, he . . . he actually began shaking with my touch. What does it mean? The awkwardness of admitting to herself that her betrothed shook beneath her touch overwhelmed Elizabeth. She felt consumed by the reality of it. He does not like it when I touch him – is that what I am realizing?

She experimentally brought her other hand up to accidentally graze across his skin, which caused him to shake harder. However, he did not pull away as if burned this time. That is progress, surely? She wanted to laugh in frustration and confusion.

Is it always this confusing? Trying to get to know another person – trying to get ready to get married. We are going to be joined together in just a few days’ time. Is this something that is going to haunt us into our marriage?

But Elizabeth’s spiraling thoughts were arrested by the look she saw in Darcy’s eyes. It was gentle, attentive, and spoke of one thing: love.

That immediately comforted her. We are going to be alright. I do not know how this is going to be solved – or if it even can – but if he looks like that at me, I think we will work it out together.

Chapter Text

Darcy settled back in the carriage, allowing contentment to spread throughout his body. Have I ever really experienced this strong a feeling . . .  Darcy absently reached his hand up and rubbed at his chest. His heart was not exactly on fire, but that is how he would describe the sensation to someone else. He could hardly sort through the emotion that seemed to be swelling inside of him. He wanted to smile. He wanted everyone to see him smile. He felt giddy, which meant he felt very un-Darcy like.

He sat a bit taller in his seat, but the smile, which he sure was goofy, remained firmly affixed to his face. It was just that – Now I am married. Officially married. No one can take that away from me. And Georgie had been so nervous about being in Hertfordshire, but Elizabeth was such a good sister to her. Even Kitty surprised me. She really seemed to go out of her way to make Georgie comfortable. We will need to see about hosting her at Pemberley. I am sure we can do something for her, and she could be a good friend for Georgie. Maybe help her build up her confidence.

Again, Darcy’s mind felt filled with his realization a few days ago that he really only ever had been touched by Georgie, but even those small hugs had lessened slightly over the past year. But now, here he was, sitting in his carriage with his new bride.

The smile spread even more fully and firmly onto his face. Does it even look like it belongs, or do I look like some ridiculous parody of myself? Darcy barely restrained himself from raising an unsure hand and rubbing at his face to investigate.

What am I doing obsessing about that? I am alone with my wife. He glanced over to Elizabeth beyond happy to be riding alone with her alone, truly alone. She was looking out the window on her side of the carriage, which allowed the light to catch her soft brown locks of hair. They shone in the light, showing off shades of tree bark, chocolate, and milky tea. Yes, very good Darcy, compare your wife to either a tree’s skin or food you would like to be currently eating. He did not roll his eyes at himself only because he did not want Elizabeth to see and misinterpret it. With their history of misunderstanding each other, Darcy was at great pains to communicate clearly with his new, stunning wife.

No, I am not going to confuse her or make her life difficult. I am going to devote myself to proving to her that I really have changed. That I listened to her and agreed with her reproofs. Darcy shuddered involuntarily remembering her harsh, but now he could acknowledge well justified words in Kent. Elizabeth had told him not to remind him of what she had said then, but even with Elizabeth sitting next to him on the carriage, he still could sometimes hear her harsh disdain. She spoke so clearly, so effectively. It bit at him, and he felt that it needed to. And yet, he thought he would never be happy again after she rejected him. Those next few months were difficult, painful.

Who else would have helped me learn about how to be a better man? At the thought, his skin itched to be connected to Elizabeth’s. She is sitting just there. Darcy leaned slowly towards his wife, wanting to reach out. But she looked so happy watching the passing scenery. She had not looked his way once since they had started their journey, which is just as well. She is enjoying the trip. It will be a long one, so I should not take away her moments of enjoyment and distraction. I cannot allow myself to be a burden on her. His skin seemed to itch all the more with the promise of touch and then quick denial of it. Darcy felt like he was practically vibrating out of his skin. He wanted to pull his Elizabeth to him and wrap his arms around her. Too much. Far too much too soon. I do not want to demand too much of my wife. We have plenty of time for all that later.

Darcy allowed himself the luxury of a quiet sigh, trying to lean back to make sure he respected his wife’s space. Just because I cannot stop thinking about touching her does not mean she is in the same position, and I do not want to be strange with my obsession. I can be patient.

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 Elizabeth watched the passing fields and woods, and it all started to look the same to her. She did not feel different, but should I? Or should I not? I am a married woman. Married. She smiled to herself, feeling like laughing. It does not feel like it actually happened. She sensed a slight movement next to her, so she turned away from the boring window to her decidedly not boring husband. He seemed to be settling back into his seat, Was he sitting closer to me before, and now he is moving farther away? That would not make any sense. Surely.

Elizabeth allowed herself to blatantly stare at him. He was such a fine figure of a man. So handsome and yet so quiet in his handsomeness. I cannot believe I thought him arrogant. She did let out a soft laugh at that ridiculous memory. He does not even think of his looks. I am sure of that. I know his valet does more to worry about what he wears and how he styles his cravat. She took in the flourish of fabric that currently covered his throat and while she had intended to examine the cravat his valet had tied today, she found the only thing she could think about was to undo the cloth and pull it away. I have not seen his neck before. I wonder what it would look like?

Suddenly that seemed wildly intimate to her, which felt both silly but undeniable.

Darcy realized she was looking at him and caught her eye. He looked a little nervous, as if she would be displeased with him. How silly. Who would be displeased with Fitzwilliam?

“Fitz. . .” her voice seemed to crack with disuse. She cleared her throat a bit awkwardly. “Fitzwilliam, I cannot believe that we have been married for hours now.” She wanted to tease him and see that shy, handsome smile come peaking out from her husband’s face. “In no time at all, we shall be an old gray couple quite tired of each other’s constant observations.”
“No, Elizabeth.” Darcy turned a little more to face her fully. “I cannot imagine myself ever tired of what you have to say.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly, a little flustered. He is so earnest. I know he means that. “I have to say I feel the same. We shall make a very different couple than some of the old married people I have observed since I was a child.” Elizabeth nodded. “I really just wanted to tell you that I am happy. Desperately happy. I . . . I cannot believe we are married, but I am glad that we are.”

“Me too, my Elizabeth.”

His quite response was better than Elizabeth imagined. It warmed her up, from her toes to fingers. She smiled at his sweet “my,” and decided that they were alone in a carriage, and it would be a shame to waste their first time truly alone together. I suppose we were alone on the walks in Rosings, but I was hardly in the correct frame of mind to appreciate what I had. How little did I understand him then. I did not even think he liked me. I cannot believe I kept thinking they were accidental meetings. Perhaps I was a bit willfully naïve.

She reached tentatively out for her husband who was watching her closely. Curious but unsure. He looked like he would allow her to do anything. The power felt heady but was certainly nerve wracking.

Elizabeth stopped the progression of her hand, pulled it back to slowly remove her glove. She watched, satisfied, as Darcy’s eyes slightly widened. She set the glove gently back into her lap and reached out again. Elizabeth smiled up into Darcy’s eyes, which were watching hers, only to cut away to her hand and back to her eyes.

Elizabeth pressed her hand against her husband’s face. She wrapped her hand along his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin and the slight stubble that was beginning to emerge. Elizabeth felt like she was stealing something intimate and not allowed, but Darcy just sighed into her fingers. She felt him press his face against her hand even further, his eyes slipping closed. Elizabeth could not believe that she got to be so happy, holding her husband’s face in her hand. And that he would allow himself to be so vulnerable and open to her. As she rubbed her thumb, luxuriating in the feel of his skin against her own, Elizabeth allowed the happiness to consume her.

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Darcy had watched confused as Elizabeth had reached out her hand, and then stopped to take the glove off. Something about having the skin hidden and then revealed made the moment feel even more palpable. It was strong. Impossible to ignore the significance of the moment. She reached her hand back out and then she was touching his face. With her hand. Darcy’s body jolted to life under that touch, but he simultaneously felt like he was melting. 

Her hand was cool against the perceived heat of his face. Her fingers were elegantly shaped, but now he felt them pressed against his cheek. It felt like absolution. Forgiveness for sins he had not even realized he committed and was afraid would come back to haunt him. Darcy could no more stop himself from sinking into her touch than the sun could stop itself from marching across the sky each day.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of those gentle, cool fingers. I could die happy here.

But then the carriage jerked to a stop. Darcy’s eyes flew open. He could not imagine Elizabeth pulling her hand away, I think that would kill me, so he reached out carefully taking her hand off his face himself. He allowed himself one squeeze of her hand in his own, and then he set it carefully in her lap, hoping she would put her glove back on before they exited. He feared what he might do with the blatant beauty of that hand for all of the inn to see. Good Lord. You are being ridiculous. He tried to chastise himself, but he could not stop himself from feeling giddy and protective over his new wife. I need to get our rooms settled and sorted. I need to make sure they have the things I sent ahead of set up. Darcy tried to shake himself free from the stupor that his wife’s touch seemed to put him under, and he was ready when the door to their carriage opened. He knew he needed to help hand Elizabeth down, but he did not know if he could manage taking her hand in his own without immediately following up with other touches. And it is not time for that. Patience. Besides, she needs to be the one to control and chose where and how she touches me. I do not want to scare her away with my desperate need. She is a lady and a maiden. This will be especially important to be under her own time and choice.  

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Elizabeth watched in surprise as Darcy handed her down gently but without any real touch. Strange. But she was pleased to see that he had prepared several things to be waiting for them. It was quite sweet to see the surprises the inn keeper brought out. It was clear that he knew her husband and was pleased to be a part of Darcy’s momentous day.

Elizabeth snuck a glance at Darcy, smiling to herself at the slight pink of his cheeks and ears.

He confuses me, my Fitzwilliam, but that almost makes it better I feel like he is a bit of a mystery that needs a careful hand to attempt unravelling it. Elizabeth felt cheered by the carriage ride overall. Her husband clearly wanted her touch, even if he was a bit embarrassed about it, and Elizabeth felt like she could work with that. 

Chapter Text

The inn had been expressly set up for this evening, but Elizabeth could not help wondering if it would have been better to have spent their first night at Netherfield. No. That would have been more tense, more awkward. So many families there wanting to see us and measuring how we are doing as a newly wedded couple. His family, my family, and even Bingley’s. It is just a shame that we could not make it to Pemberley in one day.

She looked over the room she had been escorted into sans husband. Darcy promised to be back soon. Apparently, he had a few things he needed to see to, but it now seemed like a long time since he left her. Elizabeth watched the last of the sun as it slowly slipped below the trees. She leaned against the windowpane, half sitting on it. The room really is lovely. Well-maintained and clearly comfortable. Her eyes glanced over the bed, which someone had spread rose petals all over. That made her blush.

Does everyone in the inn know it is our first night together? She thought back on the maid who had helped her change into the nightgown Mrs. Gardener had gifted her. Everyone will know what we are supposed to be doing. . . I suppose it is what Jane and Bingley will be doing tonight as well. Elizabeth felt her cheeks coloring even more at the thought of her sweet sister getting intimate. Obviously, Elizabeth had seen animals in season, which did not instill great confidence on how this night would go, but Mrs. Bennet had told both Jane and Elizabeth that it was a necessary evil and not really that unenjoyable. She said that the best way to handle it was to do nothing more than lie there and be available. Not the most helpful advice but better than being terrified of it I suppose.

Elizabeth was secretly looking forward to discovering what it would really be like. She had been an inquisitive youth and had been more exploratory than Jane. At least as far as Jane was comfortable ever talking about. And now Elizabeth felt even more anticipatory after the slight touch Darcy allowed in the carriage. His cheek had felt so delightful under her hand, and it made her itch to explore the rest of his skin.

Tonight, I will be able to do just that. Her stomach turned inside of her, and she wished Darcy was back from whatever he was doing. The sun had sunk lower and lower and now the candles and fire were doing most of the lighting. Is that good? Will the more subdued lighting give us more confidence?  

Will Fitzwilliam think me terrible gauche if I am eager for tonight’s activities? Should I just lie there and allow him to do what he needs as Mama suggested. That does not seem very appealing. Surely, I can enjoy it too, but would that make me a loose woman? Elizabeth huffed. When we have a daughter, I am not going to be vague or unclear. She will know what is coming on her wedding night.

Elizabeth’s frustration cooled as she remembered the gentle, tender look in Darcy’s eyes. He had been abrupt in his movement away from her, but he had not looked angry at her. But still, I wish I knew how tonight should go. How it ought to go.

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Darcy had been finished with his business for at least the past fifteen minutes, but he simply could not bring himself to go back to his room where he knew Elizabeth waited. He embarrassed himself by going down to visit the horses, but he felt he needed something to cool his blood. This is going to be even more embarrassing if I prove to not be able to control myself. He tried taking several deep breaths. Elizabeth is a kind, compassionate woman. I will be honest with her, and she will understand.

Darcy groaned. He could not imagine telling his imaginative and curious wife that he was affected so greatly by touch. Surely, she would inevitably ask why. And then she would realize how strange he really was. If he was going to be honest, she would surely learn how lucky he was that she chose to marry him. How much he loved her and feared losing her. Always the fear at the back of his mind.

Finally, Darcy felt he calmed himself enough to go see his wife. He knocked tentatively on the door, waiting for her to acknowledge him. He heard her soft call to “enter.”

When he opened the door, Darcy felt immediately shattered by Elizabeth’s beauty. She was currently sitting by the window in a loose white nightgown. It looked silky to the touch and unlike the other clothes Darcy had seen her in it showed more than it concealed. He felt like all his breath was suddenly gone. He yearned for his wife.

Without him even being conscious of it, his body had crossed the room to where Elizabeth was seated. He knelt in front of her and leaned towards her warm, enchanting face that called to him. He wanted to kiss her, and he sought her lips with his own. Yet, even before they touched, Darcy felt his entire being seizing up, anticipating the kiss with too much coiled strength. He felt certain that the touch would cause him to unspring. I would frighten my Elizabeth. I cannot do that. I need to have better maintenance over myself. Why am I so affected by her touch? Am I really so pathetic that the slightest contact with my bride causes me to be set aflame?

He stopped himself from completing the kiss, pulling back instead, trying to gain distance and equanimity.

I can do this. Surely. It is just touch. I should have exposed myself to it more so that it did not all come down to my wedding night with the woman I most want to please.

He felt frustration at himself creep up, and he sat back onto his heels, letting the defeat wrap itself around him.

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Elizabeth had watched in surprise as her husband entered. He seemed to stare at her for a bit longer than was strictly normal, but it was a lovely warm stare. I rather enjoyed it, she thought with a slight smile. She hoped she looked appealing to him. I so want to make him happy and satisfied in his choice of bride. We will be very good together, I think. If we can actually communicate and not misunderstand each other again.

He had walked over to her with a confidence that made her feel strangely tingly. She sat up, not sure what to expect when he knelt down, putting himself just a little lower than she was seated. He looked strong but was clearly holding back that strength. Elizabeth was surprised at how much that appealed to her. She watched the tension in his shoulders as he leaned forward. Unsure of where he was headed, Elizabeth tried to let him take the lead, but he pulled back almost as soon as he leaned towards her.

Elizabeth watched his expressions closely and saw a myriad of emotions march across his face in too quick a succession to really analyze them. But she knew he had pulled away from her again. Like he had done in the carriage and during their engagement.

“No – please do not pull away, Fitzwilliam! Why do you always do that?” Elizabeth reached out her hand, tentatively touching Darcy’s face again. She trailed her fingers down the line of his cheek and watched, in fascination, as he shuddered against her touch. It seemed almost painful, but Elizabeth did not think it hurt him. It was strange, and she could not quite figure it out.

She leaned forward a bit more, invading his space as he remained where he was. “Do you not like it when I touch you?” She asked, her voice quivering more than she would have liked. 

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At her question, Darcy jerked up to look into Elizabeth’s eyes. He hated to think that he had caused her to doubt herself. She looked stricken and a littler nervous. We cannot have that.
“No. No, Elizabeth. Of course not. I am so sorry. I have been so caught up in what is happening to me that I forgot how you might perceive things. Forgive me.”

Elizabeth nodded, reaching towards him with her other hand. She carefully stroked his hair, sifting through his thick curls. Darcy did not quite swallow the moan that issued from his mouth unsolicited. Her touch felt exquisite. Unlike anything he had felt before, and he pushed himself more into it. “I love your touch, my Elizabeth.”

“Then why do you pull away from it?” She asked, curious but less nervous now. She smiled at him, rubbing his dimple when he smiled in return.

“I do not quite know how to explain it, Elizabeth. I get nervous with your touch. It is so powerful.”

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully but continued looking steadily at Darcy, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed. “I think part of it is that I just am not touched very often. By anyone really.”

He watched as Elizabeth considered this. “My family is very demonstrative. We always have been, and I love to feel connected to those I love. Maybe it is because there were five of us girls all quite close in age. Besides, I have never slept alone. I have rarely been alone for more than the space of an hour or two – I do not know what it is liked not to be touched regularly.”
Darcy nodded, “That makes sense.”

“How was it in your family?” Elizabeth prompted.

“I am not sure how my mother was. I remember her hugs and cuddling with her rather a lot, so I think she would touch me. But when she died, I was off at school and then I came home to a much more subdued, quiet house. I did not want to intrude on my father’s grief, so I tried to be more subdued and quieter myself. I think that did not do many favors for poor Georgie. And during our engagement, I have been thinking on why I react so much to your touch, and it made me realize that my sister and I hardly touch anymore. It is something I want to remedy. But with you, I feel your touches as if they are magnified. They feel so pronounced they almost cause pain.”

Darcy shook his head in confusion, not sure how to fully explain.

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Elizabeth listened carefully, not sure she really understood. But one thing was clear to her, Darcy had not been touched often over the last five years at least. She looked down into his dear, kind face.

She stood up and took his hand, pulling him to the bed with her. “Come on. I think we need to sit on the bed together, just holding each other for a little bit.” She smiled up at him as she forced his arms to stretch out. “Look at how long your arms are! They are perfect for wrapping around me,” Elizabeth carefully placed his hands across her stomach and leaned back into Darcy’s chest.

Darcy chuckled softly behind her. Elizabeth smiled to herself; laughter is good. We do not need to keep this overly serious.

She directed them to the bed, laying down and allowing Darcy to wrap around her. She traced her fingertips lightly across his arms which held her so tightly. It felt amazing for her, and though Darcy trembled a bit violently at first, which caused her to worry, that soon subsided. He needs to get used to my skin, maybe? I think practice ought to help. She grew a bit bolder with her touches, pressing down against his skin, attempting maximum coverage. “You might as well know, Fitzwilliam. I intend to touch you every single day, so you are going to have to get used to the sensation.”

Darcy pressed his face into Elizabeth’s skin, and she could feel his smile. “I will endeavor to please you with my receptance, my Elizabeth.”

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Elizabeth had not been sure how the wedding night would go. If asked before her wedding, she would have said it would be awkward and stilted. They would probably fail to talk about things and end up both feeling uncomfortable. However, the reality could not have been more different. Elizabeth was quite pleased with herself and her husband for their dedication to communication.

Darcy had proven to be an exceptional lover. Elizabeth had been prepared for pain and discomfort, which there had been, but she had not been prepared to lose all control of herself as she moaned and actually screamed the name of her husband. Afterwards she had been terribly embarrassed and sought to bury her face in his chest. He had rubbed her shoulders, and attempted to apologize, which made Elizabeth bite him in a playful manner that quickly led to another rather loud round of lovemaking.

I think I am going to enjoy married life rather more than I expected. Elizabeth looked down at her still sleeping husband. He was unclothed and the sheet only reached to just his hips, showing off his broad shoulders and slim waist. Elizabeth gleefully began touching the exposed skin, excited that this was hers to touch whenever she felt like it. No more propriety to worry about. How strange and how quickly that changes. Just two days ago I would not be allowed to see him alone, and now – she leaned down and began kissing across his skin, hearing Darcy’s muffled waking – anything goes.

Elizabeth did not stop exploring his skin with her mouth, but she did lift her eyes to Darcy’s. Last night he had been most attentive to her. He had completed his duty, so Elizabeth knew they were well and truly married, but what had surprised her was his extreme attention to herself. She had not heard that there was to be such pleasure found in lovemaking – not with any of the married women she had talked with before getting married. He seemed to delight in her delight and wanted to bring her only pleasure. She smiled into his skin as she continued kissing.

“You seek to undo me with your touch, my Elizabeth.” Darcy whispered. Elizabeth shook her head. He leaned down closer to her, “It felt amazing to sleep with you, Elizabeth. To feel your skin against mine all night.”

She pulled back to softly say, “You are really very good at this, Fitzwilliam, for someone who has not touched many women before.”

Darcy laughed at Elizabeth’s antics and pulled her up to him for a passionate kiss that led to a rather long bout of lovemaking, which caused them to be late arriving at Pemberley. But neither Darcy nor Elizabeth would have had it any other way.