Page 180

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Very nice?” he asked, pushing himself slowly back and forth.

“Very,” she said weakly, trying not to pant. She could feel her insides fluttering about. This continued for some minutes while he teased her in various ways, licking his finger and running it down her spine.

Finally, he felt himself almost ready to burst. “Finish?” he asked.

“Yes, please!”

Picking up the pace, Darcy pushed into her relentlessly. Reaching completion, he collapsed briefly onto her back to hug her.

“Yes,” he said, kissing her shoulders. “I really like the dimensions of this dresser. Perhaps Thorne would be willing to sell it.”

“Geometry, indeed!” sighed Lizzy. “You are incorrigible!”

“A man cannot be thinking of mathematics all the time,” returned Darcy sanguinely.

Not far away in her bedchamber, Jane had already settled down for sleep in Thorne’s arms.

“Poor Darcy!” sighed Jane at the exact moment the man spoken of was enjoying his wife on top of the dresser. “He has learned to cope so well but all the excitement today must have been too much for him!”

“Yes,” replied Thorne with a kiss for his solicitous wife, “he is managing very well.”

Chapter 60: Lucky in love

When the Darcys were late coming down for breakfast in the morning, Jane attributed their tardiness to fatigue. She was again quite wide of the mark. On waking, Darcy had retrieved the purloined ribbon from his waistcoat pocket and, pretending to muse once more on its geometrical properties, attempted to tie Lizzy’s hands to the bedstead. This she had laughingly refused to succumb to: slipping out of his grip, snatching the ribbon and subjecting her husband instead to the same treatment. As this had actually been Darcy’s object all along, he submitted with a mock protest and received his punishment manfully.

Nonetheless the Darcys managed to make it downstairs before nine, elegantly dressed thanks to the efforts of Fairbanks and Finn, without any evidence of their gambol besides the twinkle in Lizzy’s eyes and an enigmatic smile playing round Darcy’s lips. Thorne had delayed his departure to the docks to enquire whether Darcy cared to accompany him. As the ladies were discussing their intention of going furniture shopping in Bristol, Darcy gladly acquiesced and the two gentlemen went off to the harbour together in Thorne’s carriage.

Jane subsequently gave Lizzy a tour of the public rooms of the house, which she intended to redecorate, hoping to get her sister’s advice. Given that her departed mother-in-law had merely transplanted her old furnishings to their new lodgings, one might argue that Jane was starting from scratch, for old Mrs Thorne’s ancient furniture in no way suited the modern splendour of the Palladian mansion. Lizzy was particularly intrigued by Thorne’s project to turn his mother’s rooms into a glassed sitting room, but upon hearing the rooms had originally been intended for a study and library, bemoaned the loss of these functions.

“Why could you not combine the two?” asked Lizzy. “This first room could be the sitting room—still very large—and the second room could be Thorne’s library and study. You could even put folding or sliding doors between them to open or close the space as you wished.”

“But Benjamin merely reads the paper, Lizzy. He does not have many books to speak of.”

“Then you must get him some, Jane,” urged Lizzy.

Rather than disagree, they sat down to seek inspiration in the decorating journals. By the time the Reverend Jones arrived at eleven, they had decided that the bulk of the furniture must go. Jane wished to keep only a single Pembroke table that she thought quite pretty for her sitting room. The reverend was very pleased to make the acquaintance of the two ladies and acquire such a hoard of furniture. Its sale would provide much needed funds to support the orphans of the parish. After tea he took himself off, looking forward to their presence in church on Sunday. He promised to send two men with a cart in the afternoon to remove the furniture and bric-à-brac. The ladies spent the remaining time before lunch in beginning to sort through Mrs Thorne’s smaller items. Many of these turned out to be objects Thorne had brought home from his travels as a sailor. Some were very fine—objects carved from sandalwood, jade and ivory—and others so curious that Lizzy wondered that he could bear to part with any of them.

“If Mr Thorne dislikes books so much, Jane, why not intersperse his few books with these objects on the shelves? I am sure there are wonderful stories associated with each of them.”

On the gentlemen’s returning for the afternoon, Mrs Bellamy announced she had prepared only a light lunch in consideration of the much grander meal being cooked for their enjoyment before their night at the opera. Lizzy suggested they partake of the meal around the Pembroke table in the ‘sitting room’ so that Thorne could describe the history of some of the objects that the ladies had found, including a carved jade brush washer and a seven-layered ivory puzzle ball. Jane found the stories of Thorne’s travels entertaining and enlightening, not only of the world but of his character. She felt rather ashamed she had not asked him something of his history earlier. She was only glad her sister had facilitated a topic she would have been loath to broach herself, encroaching as it did on his humble origins. She was glad to see that her husband was not in the least ashamed of his background and, as Mr Darcy showed no repugnance for the details of Thorne’s voyages, Jane determined that she would not either.

After lunch, they all went walking together as far as the Avon before returning to the house to rest before the opera. A whole hour was devoted to their preparations for this grand affair for which Jane’s hair was curled into an elaborate coiffure and the entire aquamarine parure donned. Jane’s beauty was markedly enhanced by her jewels, but Fairbanks had nothing to be ashamed of in her mistress who looked magnificent in the Darcy emeralds and a dazzling silk gown. Indeed, Lizzy was gratified to see Mr Thorne look twice when she glided down the stairs with Jane to the vestibule where the gentlemen awaited them. There was a little, vain part of Lizzy that was glad to know she could look fine in her feathers. Thorne’s subsequent admiring comment was noted with gratification by her doting husband, who swiftly made a mental sketch of his wife’s attire so that he could look forward to removing it later. Darcy’s raiment, which equalled his wife’s in magnificence and complemented it, thanks to communication between Fairbanks and Finn, included an emerald ring and cravat pin. Thorne, in contrast, was dressed well for the event, but with less opulence. His valet subsequently convinced him that a little more extravagance would not go astray occasionally.

The opera was the perennially popular Artaxerxes, which had been performed regularly for almost fifty years and was lavishly staged. The box Thorne had hired for the evening was among the best in the house. Lizzy sat close to her husband, describing the wonder of the scenery and costumes, falling silent during the songs so that he could appreciate the music. Jane was enthralled by the dramatic plot and the handsome castrati cast as the heroes. During the interval, their box was inundated by a who’s who of Bristol. Darcy tolerated the deluge equably enough, shielded by a pair of dark-tinted glasses and his engaging spouse who deflected every impertinent query with a laugh and a joke. He was forcibly reminded of his admiration for Elizabeth’s wit at Netherfield.

The next day it was the Thornes who were tardy in coming downstairs for breakfast, so it was Elizabeth who opened a letter addressed to the sisters from Mrs Bennet, which had arrived with the morning post. Wondering what on earth could have prompted her mother to write and fearing some calamity, Lizzy scanned it quickly, giving a laugh; but refused to divulge its contents to Darcy until after her sister had come down. Thorne and Jane appeared soon after, allowing Lizzy to spill her news:

“I have had a note from Mama—for it is nothing more—we are now to have the Gouldings as our relatives.”

“The Gouldings?” repeated Jane. “How delightful! Young Mr Goulding is such a worthy man. It is not his fault he is not comely. So, which is it, Kitty or Lydia? I am glad that one of them finally relented!”

“Neither!” said Lizzy triumphantly. “It is Mama!”

“Mama!” said Jane, paling. “Impossible! Mr Goulding is at least ten years younger than her!”

“Eleven to be exact, but you have got the cat by its tail. Mama is to marry old Mr Goulding.”