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Lizzy woke up to stare at a heavy wine coloured bed hanging. Their bed hanging. The scarlet was streaked with gold from mid-morning sunshine and the tassels hung demurely downward to be lost beneath the bedclothes.
Lizzy languidly wondered how late it was.
Her Darcy fancied keeping her up at all hours; she was forced to catch her sleep during the day. She rolled over and glanced at the tall, oaken clock near the door of the bedchamber. Almost a quarter past ten! The day was half gone! She cast the covers across the bed and would have hurried out, but she spied him sitting with an engrossed stare, his freshly dipped quill scratching away in that methodical, flourishing authority of his. She stepped out of bed silently, her toes sinking deep into the delicious carpet, conscious of her dark hair(a particularly overpowering enticement, or so he had admitted last night) hanging in wild estate about her shoulders. Radiant with all the confidence of fresh, avowed worship and complete attachment, she stepped lightly to him and bent to place her hands on his shoulders and peer over his magnificent head to observe his correspondence. Wistfully she spoke,“You already have pressing business matters to attend to?”
He smiled, lifting his quill from the creamy white page and laying it down in idleness at the top of his writing desk. “Come.” He held out his hand and she took it, a flash of satisfaction and warmth flushing her skin all the way to her throat. He drew her jealously close upon his lap and pressed a lingering kiss upon her veiled shoulder, not minding the tickling of her dark hair against his cheek.
She smirked at the thought of what Mr. Collins would say if he could see the indecency of Mr. Darcy’s conduct, even if they were (shortly) married. She laughed lightly and fidgeted in happiness, her fingers smoothing a lock of her lover’s hair off his forehead.
For his part, Darcy drank her in; the pretty pink halo that flushed her cheeks, the rebellious little toes that dug delightedly into the carpet, the flimsy nightdress that provided no barrier between her beauty and his vision of her. An arm around his mischievous beloved, and a hand unconsciously playing with the ruffles near her throat, he gazed at her with such an expression of vulnerable tenderness that Elizabeth quite melted. Settling upon kissing her dear Darcy, she proceeded for some minutes. When she was satisfied and Darcy was by no means, she sprang up and entreated him for a tour of the rooms she was not already acquainted with.
Sensing adventure and desire for novelty in her blood, Darcy acquiesced with something very near adoration. With an affectionate nod, he granted the entreaty, taking her small, sweet hand in his and leading her through the imposing rooms.
Every chamber seemed to Lizzy a great hall. She sighed in excitement at looking at all the fine items that adorned the inside of Pemberley. nothing was out of place; all was tasteful and elegant. She felt like she was strolling through a palace- a palace that she now had the privilege to walk about each and every day. Nothing passed under her review but it pleased her. Darcy found himself enjoying the jaunt that had stolen him and his delightful wife from very pleasing newlywed pastimes, and instead allowed himself to be swept up by Lizzy's bright-eyed excitement. He grew rather earnest and animated as he shared little details about certain artifacts, recalling old stories of his childhood and blessing her ears with them. He gestured, a baby's slipper in his hand, as he recounted a tale about an infant Georgiana and their faithful childhood dog. Elizabeth glowed and urged him on; delighted in his ease, humor, and obvious savor of the memories he indulged her with.