Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Read online

  With the nature of the marriage being what it is, I see no need for a long engagement and would not delay longer than it should take to properly prepare the wedding clothes, which I will have made by the seamstress here at Meryton, unless Mr. Mills would prefer that they be made in London. I would also prefer to be married in the parish church here, and ask that you take the place of my father at the ceremony.

  Your loving niece,

  Elizabeth

  She then took a second sheet of paper and wrote to her Aunt

  Gardiner.

  Mrs. Edward Gardiner

  One Gracechurch Street

  Cheapside

  London

  Dear Aunt Lilly,

  I do not know how to say this but, God help me, after speaking with Papa, I have decided to accept Mr. Mills’ offer of marriage. I am sure that you are aware of it.

  I wrote Uncle Edward that there was no need for a long engagement, with the marriage being what it is, and that I thought not to delay longer than it should take to prepare my wedding clothes.

  I would very much appreciate a time that I may speak with you prior to the wedding, as there are many questions for which I desire reasonable answers, and I know that I shall not get them from Mama.

  Since I wish to be married in our parish church, would you consent to arrive a few days prior to the wedding so that we may speak?

  Your loving niece,

  Elizabeth

  Elizabeth sealed the letter she had written to her aunt then folded it into the letter to her uncle. After sealing the outside envelope, she gave the letters to Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, to be sent via express post to London. Immediately, she went to find Jane. She knew that her father would not say anything to her mother until he had received a response from her Uncle Gardiner, so she had a few days before her mother went into hysterics about the wedding to which she had just consented.

  She found Jane working on her embroidery in the small sitting room, located on the back side of the first floor of Longbourn House.

  “Jane,” implored Elizabeth taking the hoops from her sister’s hand, and gently pulling her to her feet. “Take a turn with me in the garden.”

  Jane’s eyes grew wide but stopped short of alarm. Since they were little girls, those words had long been their signal when one needed the other for private conversation. Jane nodded, and both young women went to gather their outerwear. Pulling on their gloves, they hurried down the stairs and left through the front door. They walked arm in arm, without speaking a word, until they arrived at their “private place.”

  Their private place was just beyond the far corner of the flower garden, where a bend in the serpentine stone fence surrounding the flower garden joined the ending edge of hedgerow that formed the border of an open field. The space, between where the fence and the hedge met, was just large enough to allow the young women to pass through and enter into a protected area that was about half the size of the small sitting room they had just left.

  Jane immediately turned to Elizabeth. With her voice laced with concern and her brow furrowed, she asked, “What is it, Lizzy?”

  The stoic bravado that prompted her to write the letters to her Uncle and Aunt Gardiner suddenly deserted Elizabeth, and she started to cry, leaning her head on Jane’s shoulder. “Oh, Jane, I can hardly believe what I have done.”

  “Tell me please,” cried Jane grasping Elizabeth’s shoulders and pushing her away only far enough to see her expression, “Surely it is not so terribly bad.”

  Unable to bring herself to meet her sister’s gaze, Elizabeth simply dropped her head and stared at her feet as she confessed between sobs, “I have consented to be married.”

  Jane was both surprised and alarmed. “Lizzy, how is that possible, for I know of no one in which you have expressed any kind of interest, AT ALL? Who is it?”

  “Mr. Jerome Mills,” Elizabeth answered, patting her cheeks with the linen square that Jane had just passed to her.

  Somewhat stunned but more surprised, Jane pled, “Jerome Mills? But Lizzy, we only met him one time months ago in London. I know that you and Mr. Mills talked a great deal that night, but I did not think that you showed him any more regard than you did any other man, young or old, who attended that dinner.”

  Gently taking Jane’s hands into her own, Elizabeth looked up earnestly at her sister and closest friend. She explained the entirety of the conversation that she had had with their father, and the letters that she was sending to their aunt and uncle. As she progressed through her recitation of the chain of events, Jane’s mouth gaped open and her face paled, but not once did she remove her hand.

  When Elizabeth finished speaking, Jane folded her into a tight embrace. “So, dear sister, you are sacrificing your life for us, for me. What will you do about your dreams?”

  Elizabeth gently pushed away and, diverting her eyes, spoke again to her feet, “I guess I shall marry and make new ones.”

  Jane felt tears run down her cheek and her body began to shake slightly with soft sobs, “Oh, Elizabeth,” and again she drew her sister closer into her embrace, each of them taking comfort from the other.

  They stayed that way for many long minutes before Elizabeth finally broke the spell when she spoke, “Mama does not know. She probably will not know until Papa receives a response from Uncle Gardiner. You know what will happen then. She will be in such a dither with her nerves and agitation that none of us will have any peace, especially me.”

  Earnestly, but with a smile in her voice, Jane squeezed her younger sister’s shoulder affectionately: “I will try to never leave your side until you depart after the wedding breakfast.”

  Elizabeth started to chuckle as tears glistened in her eyes, “Oh Jane, if that were only possible.”

  The two sisters stayed together sitting on the wooden bench they had dragged from another part of the flower garden many years ago, and talked until it was time for dinner. Then, they walked arm in arm back to the house.

  CHAPTER 7

  Edward Gardiner received the two letters by express post later that evening, and, after reading his letter as he sat behind his desk, took them both to his wife. He found her at her own desk in her study engrossed in reviewing menus for the remainder of the week. After she read both letters thoroughly, she passed hers to him to read. Throughout their years together, it seemed that each had developed the ability to almost read the other’s thoughts. The look they exchanged, when he had finished reading, made it clear they both knew what Elizabeth was doing, and what she was sacrificing. They silently vowed to help her in any way that they possibly could, no matter what might come.

  Edward Gardiner met with Jerome Mills the next day. He informed him that Miss Elizabeth Bennet had accepted his proposal of marriage, and of the requests that she had made. It was abundantly clear to them both that she had asked nothing more than that with which he could easily comply, and certainly a lot less than what any other young woman would have asked under the same circumstances.

  The marriage was of the same nature as most marriages, an arrangement, almost a business transaction, not a love match, but then Jerome had not ever been witness to such a fabled relationship. An arranged marriage suited him fine. He and Elizabeth liked each other well enough that he thought they would do quite well together.

  Jerome also knew that with a young wife he might fulfill his desire for an heir, one to whom he might one day be able to pass his business. When he had first been introduced to her, he recognized immediately that those accomplishments Elizabeth’s mother thought were of little or no value for a young woman—intelligence, wit, and being well read—could be immensely profitable if she were allowed to use them.

  Once the settlement papers were signed, there was little need to delay. So Elizabeth and Jerome were married at the little parish church in Meryton as soon as her wedding clothes had been completed. In place of her father, Uncle Gardiner walked her down the aisle to Jerome. All was done as Elizabeth had requested.


  After the wedding breakfast at Longbourn House, Elizabeth and Jerome traveled to London where they were to spend the wedding night in Jerome’s home, now hers as well, close to Cheapside. They were departing on the following morning to travel to the Continent for a combined honeymoon and business trip. Jerome had scheduled meetings with some of his exporters at various locations on the route he and Elizabeth would be traveling throughout France.

  Mrs. Bennet’s description of what to expect on her wedding night, a painful, humiliating, chore to be borne as she lay flat on her back without moving until it was over, had thoroughly frightened her. Thankfully, she had received more practical information from her Aunt Gardiner, who described two possibilities: the couple who liked, but did not love, each other and joined simply to consummate the marriage and to procreate; or alternatively, one where even without love, they might find mutual pleasure in the physical act. Elizabeth listened closely. As she asked her many questions she received honest, open answers. Aunt Gardiner hoped it would be enough.

  The Gardiners’ marriage was one of the unusual ones. Although it had been arranged, as most marriages were, they found themselves very much in love with one another and remained so. Aunt Gardiner was reasonably certain that on her wedding night Elizabeth would not find the passion that she herself had found, and still enjoyed, with her husband, but there was always hope for the future.

  Jerome’s housekeeper, Mrs. Upton, having heard much of Elizabeth, deemed to like her very much, so she had prepared a light meal for their dinner and had readied a bath for the new bride to enjoy as soon as she retired to her bedchamber. Jerome told her that he would allow her an hour to prepare before coming to her.

  When Elizabeth heard the knock on her door, knowing what was to happen, her heart began to beat faster and her breath seemed to catch in her chest as she called out, “Please enter.” She had thought extensively about where she should be when he came to her. Should she already be in bed with the cover pulled up to her neck? Waiting patiently standing in the middle of the room? Reading a book as she sat on the small couch before the fireplace? Pacing about the room like a frightened animal in a cage? Finally, she had decided to simply sit on the bench before the vanity and brush her hair until he appeared.

  She started to rise from the small damask-covered bench when he entered the room, but he stayed her motion by gently placing his hand on her shoulder. He was dressed in a shirt unbuttoned at the neck and loose-fitting trousers, with house slippers on his feet instead of shoes. Taking the brush gently from her hand, he started to slowly brush her hair himself. Thick and lush, it hung down her back in long, dark, almost black curls that reached nearly to her waist. He looked at her reflection in the mirror, and, as his eyes met the reflection of hers, he realized that he had never known that her eyes were the same dark, almost black colour as her hair. But no, now almost staring into them, he realized they were not black at all. Instead, they were the deepest, darkest blue he had ever seen, like two dark pools, and in them he could see her concern about tonight.

  Jerome felt it incumbent on him to confess to her that, before they were married, he had been with other women, but only infrequently and only when he had been unable to deny his baser needs any longer.

  Fixing her gaze on his reflection in the mirror, Elizabeth thought to herself, “This is not what I want to hear on my wedding night.” When she turned on the seat to look at him directly, she realized she had never considered the colour of his eyes before. They were a pale gray, lustrous, almost like highly polished silver. She did not think that she had ever met anyone with gray eyes until now, at least not anyone who had impressed her enough for her to remember. She expanded her gaze to take in the rest of him and tentatively asked, “What is your expectation of me?”

  “Elizabeth, I do not have any expectation of you, except trust, and I ask that you trust me tonight.” Gently grasping one of her hands, he placed the gentlest of kisses on the back. “You do not know me well, yet, but believe that I would not ever purposefully hurt you or intentionally cause you harm.” Almost apologetically he explained, “Tonight, however, there will be pain. Such is the fate of a maiden, I am afraid. Do you know of what I am speaking?”

  “Yes,” she admitted as a slight blush crept over her cheeks. “I have spoken with both my mother and my aunt. But again, I ask you, what do you expect of me?”

  “As I said before, my only expectation of you is trust. I do hope for you to be a willing participant. I will try my best to make the pain end as quickly as possible.”

  She looked at him with eyes full of anticipation, but also full of hope. He answered her unspoken question, “I will be as gentle as possible. Please trust me.” He then laid the brush on the vanity, placed his hands softly on her cheeks, and lowered his lips to lightly brush over hers.

  “So this is a kiss,” she thought to herself, as a wave of disenchantment engulfed her. “Somehow, I had thought there would be something more.”

  Jerome drew back to look at Elizabeth’s face and was surprised by what he saw. He was not sure what emotion, if any, he had expected to see, but most assuredly not disappointment.

  As he knelt before her, he again brought his lips to hers. This time they were not passive. He gently licked at her lips, first the top and then the bottom. Then ever so softly, he began to run his tongue lightly along the seam of her mouth, with slowly increasing pressure. He felt Elizabeth give a slight shudder and then open her lips to him. There was the slightest touch of her tongue on his. As they kissed, he removed his hands from her face and drew her into a tight embrace. As his tongue began to explore her mouth, she was not reticent, as her own exploration seemed to battle lightly with his.

  Elizabeth began to feel a slight ever-increasing heat move from her lips to her breast and then lower to her most private area, and continue its journey until she felt warmth throughout her entire body. Jerome, for his part, felt a tightening in his groin and knew that he had to break away from their kiss before he spent himself without ever removing his trousers.

  He ended the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. Knowing that she had never kissed anyone before, he smiled at his good fortune. Could it be true that Elizabeth possessed a most passionate nature? Would passion alone be enough to sustain them?

  He turned her so that she again faced toward the mirror and locked his eyes on her reflection. She was slightly flushed, and her breasts rose and fell with each increased breath. “No, I was right to stop,” he thought. “If she were to continue to return my kiss so passionately, I would never make it to the marriage bed.”

  Instead, he ran his fingers through her hair where it lay upon her neck and gently pulled it back. Again, he looked at her reflection as he lowered his mouth to gently suckle the pulse beating just below her ear.

  With her body responding to this newly found pleasure, Elizabeth softly leaned back against Jerome’s body, and quietly sighed as he slowly reached his hands down to touch her breasts. She softly gasped as he stroked first one and then the other, until the nipples stood puckered against the silk of her gown and robe.

  “I would like to look at you,” he stated simply as he slipped the robe from her shoulders and let it glide to the floor. He began to move first one strap of her gown, and then the other, down her arms, until the gown rested at her waist. Gazing at her breasts reflected in the mirror, he turned her around on the vanity bench until she again faced him. He went to his knees in front of her, taking first one generous breast and then the other into his hands, as he began to gently squeeze and caress them. Elizabeth grasped her hands at his shoulders and leaned her head into his hair.

  “So beautiful, so perfect,” he moaned, as he again ran his hands over each breast and then closed his lips around first one nipple and then the other.

  Elizabeth felt herself tremble, and after a few exquisite moments of pleasure quietly asked, “May I do the same?”

  He looked at her with questioning in his eyes as she waited anxiously for h
is answer. When he did not respond, and as the moments grew longer, she grew increasingly uncomfortable. Starting to feel embarrassed, she had thought to reach for the strap of her gown to cover herself. Fortunately, Jerome saw the change in her response to him and quickly admitted to her, “Of the few women that I have ever been with, none ever asked to touch me in any manner.”

  Immediately, Elizabeth grew stiff and lowered her head stammering. “I am so embarrassed. What must you think of me, behaving in such a wanton manner?”

  “I think that I am a most fortunate man,” he responded huskily as a broad smile covered his face.

  Elizabeth raised her head in time to see him smile. “Could this possibly be true? Does he wish for me to behave in such a way?” she thought.

  “Elizabeth. When I said that no other woman had ever asked to touch me in any manner, I did not mean that I did not wish for it.” They faced each other, as he continued, “This will be a new experience for both of us to share together then.”