My new Austenite romance is ready!
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It will be live this Valentines and I'm very excited to be back in P&P universe.
To me, it's like visiting old times friends!
So, as promissed, here is the 2nd chapter.
Here you'll find more details and links.
DIRTY PETTICOATS
PG 13 - Regency - P&P continuation
‘Elizabeth?’ Darcy asked looking around the room a bit disoriented after a nap in the middle of the day. ‘My darling?’
‘Here!’
‘Here, where?’
‘My desk!’ She answered from the parlor adjoined to the bedroom.
‘What are you doing there so far from me?’
‘Commonplacing.’
He smiled. ‘Bring it to me, darling.’
She moved with a spring in her step, the secret notebook they shared was the epitome of sassiness. From mundane everyday information as special dinner menus to favorite quotes from poems and romances, everything was noted and read by the couple. Sometimes it was unclear if what happened was important enough to be written down or if a situation was created ultimately for that reason.
‘How are we?’ He asked when her delectable figure clad in camisole and wool peignoir entered the room.
‘This is our last safe day.’
‘We better make good use, then.’ A sideways cad like smile stretched his lips. ‘We shall dine in our rooms tonight.’
That expression on his handsome face, explicit intimacy post love making, was exclusively hers, Elizabeth was sure. She was no naive girl, her mamma and aunt Gardiner had talked to her about bachelors’ dealings, she imagined her husband had had liaisons before he met her; but there was no doubt his cad smile was solely for her because of what it made her feel: week in the legs, warm in the chest, melted where it mattered. ‘Georgiana will expect our presence.’
‘She is a big girl, Pemberley has an extensive library, we can spend time on our own.’
She giggled climbing in bed. That answer of his, what it meant, the desire and promise of libidinous hours with him, was the kind of memory she recorded on her personal journal; a similar volume bounded in leather with her initials engraved in gold. The little commonplace book they kept together was for their marital delight.
‘Mmm…’ Darcy made a sound from his throat studying the pages. His wife had created a neat feminine method of noting her monthly courses as one titles a book, beneath she wrote all kinds of reminders of theirs daily delights including the calculations of the safe period of a week when they could indulge in marriage duties without the use of lambskin or interrupting bliss. That she did front to back. Back to front, he took pleasure in noting positions, circumstances, anything that could improve or diversify their lovemaking. ‘I see we had already attested the good in what we did this afternoon.’
‘I’m sure we did, love!’ Elizabeth was still giggling. ‘We are most proficient! Even your aunt would compliment us on the amount of practice we dedicate to it.’
He grinned with the satisfaction of a man who had made the right choice for a life companion. Witty, sweet, handsome, intelligent, a curious and ardent lover. ‘I’ll add to it, anyway. We both enjoyed it too much today.’
She blushed and bit her lip. So many months in marriage and he still had that power over her. ‘Let me get you a pen. And the writing-box.’
He knew what the color on her cheeks was for because he also felt very warmed when remembering their bed. That day was one of those moments when riding was very uncomfortable.
Ebk - Fov - emb - den - hfdrs - fst
He was still covered only by bed clothes, hoped to extend the intimacy session at least until dinner time. The best part of being a married gentleman, in Darcy’s opinion, was to acknowledge the admiration in his wife’s fine eyes when she saw him in disarrange or he surprised her with unusual intelligences such as the Arabic language read right to left. Such unequal situations brought out a shine to her gaze, the ardency of a woman in love with him – body and mind – what made him constantly endeavor to please her in any manner possible, even the most insignificant use of the commonplace book they kept together.
His cute bride returned carrying the writing-box her aunt had given her as a wedding gift and the crystal ink bottle that usually rested on her desk. She deposited the tiny thing on the side table and arranged the box on his lap before getting throw pillows from the stuffed chair to help him seat more comfortably. In return, he grabbed her face with both his hands and kissed her.
‘Will that make the book too?’
‘Only if I exchange this box with you.’
Elizabeth giggled. ‘In your lap?’
‘Best place for Mrs. Darcy.’
‘I agree.’
With another quick kiss, she went around, took off the peignoir and climbed into bed beside him. As soon as she touched his arm, he twitched in a goosebump. ‘It is a bit cold, isn’t it? I thought it was just me or a draft coming from a window from the parlor. I’d better call someone to stroke the fire.’ Elizabeth was glad she had the possibility of having servants for each and all activities of the household, no matter how mundane. As the wife of a man of such consequence as Darcy, she lived in a different world from the one she had come from as a Bennet daughter. ‘Should I ask for our mail as well?’
‘It is not the weather affecting me, darling.’
‘To me, it seemed like a cold goosebump.’
‘You are warm enough.’
‘You are under the covers.’
‘I could have your company here…’
The writing-box so carefully arranged in his lap was discarded, the naughty book forgotten and dinner postponed that night.
---
Later that evening at the saloon, having an aperitif before the meal, Georgiana stopped in the middle of a song and turned from the piano-forte.
‘Third sneeze, sister. You do have a cold.’
‘Tis only an inconvenience in my nose, I told you.’ Elizabeth shook her hand keeping eyes on the letter she read.
Beside her on the couch, Darcy lovingly touched her knee and pointed the tumbler with amber liquid on the table near her. ‘Sip the brandy, it’ll help you.’ He whispered and observed as her face colored when the strong drink warmed her. He knew her cold was due to their nakedness for the most part of the afternoon.
‘So far we have invitations for the theater, the opera and two balls. When we arrive in London, I believe we won’t have much time to ourselves, Georgiana.’
‘That shall suit me just fine.’
Elizabeth looked at Darcy and back at the letters. ‘I do love the theater, the dark space when only the actors can be seen…’
‘During the intervals I shall have chance to parade my accomplishments. My first season, I may as well find agreeable suitors.’
‘There is no hurry to find a husband, Georgiana. Lizzy only accepted me when she turned one and twenty. She was mature and prepared for the role of wife. Fitzwilliam also agrees that you have much to learn from her before you can accept a man and help him care for his properties.’
‘If I do choose a man of properties, that is.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Darcy frowned.
Elizabeth hurried to rescue. ‘Your brother means to say that as an Earl’s granddaughter, you’ll have plenty of possible suitors. Maybe even some of his friends from Cambridge-’
‘Or a friend of cousin!’ Georgiana interrupted. ‘Certainly cousin Fitzwilliam will be in town for the winter, won’t deprive me of good company.’
‘Uniform men?’ Darcy groaned.
‘Yes!’ Georgiana smiled. ‘Charming, handsome, of good position, of course. Coronel, general.’
‘Lizzy.’ He simply said with the certainty that his wife of almost two years would understand him perfectly.
‘Wouldn’t an Earl or a Baron waiting to be an Earl suit you better? A Knight, perhaps.’ Elizabeth bit her lip seeing both Darcy siblings frown at her. ‘A landed gentleman of strong personality and serious mien worked fine for me!’ Still they kept silent. ‘Hey, what do I know! A letter from mamma!...’ She broke the seal and unfolded the paper to find confused lines of hurried penmanship. ‘How unusual… Listen to this, my love, mamma complains Charlotte is in Longbourn.’
‘Mrs. Collins?’
‘My aunt parson’s wife?’ Georgiana left the instrument and stood to approach the couple.
‘She says Charlotte moved to live there!’ Elizabeth’s eyes moved quickly as she read the letter.
‘I bet my aunt is quite put out to lose the agreeable company. I much enjoyed her conversation when we last visited Rosings Park during the summer.’
‘She is set to live in my old room, refuses to stay with her family at Lucas Lodge.’ Elizabeth had a deep frown. ‘Mamma says Charlotte ingratiates herself on the running of the estate! Oh, gracious… She arrived a fortnight ago and insists on invading pappa’s library to search the books… Whatever for?’
‘Is it not obvious, darling?’ Darcy raised his brows. ‘Her husband is to inherit Longbourn.’
Elizabeth gasped. ‘And my friend was sent to inspect the financial health of my father’s dealings?’
‘Possibly.’
‘No, no, no…’
‘I shall write to Bingley; he may know more.’ Darcy offered. ‘Maybe Mrs. Bennet said something to Jane.’
‘We should go to Longbourn.’ Georgiana held her waist. ‘That is what all daughters should do in this hour of need, join the parents.’
‘Jane is with child; Kitty is to help her in the end of confinement.’ Elizabeth’s eyes still ran from side to side of the letter. ‘Outrageous of Charlotte! It is as if she is not herself! My friend would never act in such manner!’
‘Your parents had five daughters…’ Georgiana insisted.
‘Mary still lives at home, with the militia moving so much no one knows Lydia’s whereabouts.’ Elizabeth lowered the letter and faced Darcy. ‘What can be done? Shall I write to Charlotte? Bring her to her senses?’
‘I believe Georgiana is right, my darling. We can spend a fortnight or two at Hertfordshire before we stay in London.’ He took her hand to deposit a kiss and took the offensive letter. ‘Tomorrow I’ll make all arrangements for our travel and stay at Netherfield, as it is still in our lease. All will be well.’
‘Such a curious thing, isn’t it?’
---
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| the graphic fairy |
How about this, huh?
An enigma!...
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| tenor |
see ya!
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