Read Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley for Free Online

fingertips embedded in hard muscle ridges as she moved, asking throatily, "Reminiscent of the dreams you had when first staying here, Fitzwilliam?"
    He merely groaned, grabbing her arms and pulling her onto his body for a voracious kiss.
    Down the hall, in the Master of Netherfield's bedchamber, Jane Bingley was being woken up in a similar fashion for the first time since her marriage. It was fortunate that the walls of Netherfield were very thick and that Georgiana, whose room was situated roughly midway between the twin dens of delight, was as deep a sleeper as her brother.
    The couples entered the breakfast room much later, Mary and Georgiana already dining. Georgiana glanced up at the glowing countenances of her brother and sister-in-law, youthful innocence nonetheless fully aware of why they beamed and surreptitiously touched while filling their plates. Darcy piled his high, ravenous for good reason, and even Lizzy discovered her appetite tremendously improved. Georgiana never tired of witnessing her brother's uncontrollable happiness; her love for him was so heartfelt that observing the joy he and Elizabeth shared warmed her soul and overcame the occasional embarrassment at witnessed embraces.
    Minutes later, the Bingleys breezed in. A rosy-cheeked Jane, arm in arm with her husband, met Lizzy's eyes for the briefest second. Lizzy nearly spit her tea at the supreme smugness visible on her sister's face. Mr. Bingley was frankly grinning like a fool, face ruddy. Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a meaningful look, vainly struggling not to laugh.
    Darcy greeted his sister with a kiss to the cheek then sat across from her and beside his wife. Looking to Mary, who sat next to Georgiana, Darcy inquired, "Miss Mary, I trust you slept well?"
    Mary jolted at the sound of Mr. Darcy's voice. Despite the near constant presence of the man at Longbourn during the course of her sister's engagement, Mary had probably exchanged twenty words with him. She was not afraid of him, exactly, merely unsure. He intimidated her, although she conceded that he did nothing to specifically tender the emotion, having been unfailingly polite and almost pleasant. Mary simply had no idea how to converse with him, nor any other man for that matter. She flushed at his serious gaze, briefly encountered his eyes with an expression of perplexity, as if having suddenly been addressed by a frog, and stammered something along the lines of concurrence regarding her night's slumber, then commenced studying her plate as if the answers to the world's problems dwelt therein.
    Darcy frowned slightly. Miss Kitty he understood; found her annoying to be sure, but he understood her. Miss Mary baffled him. That she was somewhat shy he acknowledged, yet her shyness was not nearly as profound as Georgiana's or even his own. He had observed her in many lengthy conversations. She avoided men like the plague, universally treating them all as if inferior creatures, or at least so alien as to preclude any possible communion. She seemed to have not the slightest tinge of humor. Of course, many had erringly assumed the same of him, so he was willing to extend latitude. However, try as he might, he could not break through her shell. Frankly, he could not fathom why Georgiana had befriended her or what the two talked about.
    His reverie was interrupted by Jane and Bingley taking their seats. Bingley continued to grin. Jane was her usual poised, serene self, although her color was definitely pinker than normal. With a small smile, Darcy spoke purposefully, "Mrs. Bingley, you slept well also, I trust? Refreshed and prepared to meet the day's activities?"
    His peripheral vision noted Elizabeth biting her lip, a gesture he well distinguished as one employed to prevent laughing. Bingley coughed, blushed scarlet, and hid behind his napkin. Jane, surprisingly, engaged Darcy's eyes with a calm, albeit mildly teasing smile, replying, "Why, yes indeed, Mr. Darcy. I believe I slept better than I