Elizabeth blushed like a new bride at being carried over the threshold. That was such a country custom, but she loved it just the same. Mr. Darcy snuck a quick peck on her lips before the servants walked further into the house. She hid her vermillion countenance on his chest as the staff filed past to return to their duties.

"The baths will be ready right away. Shall I send up a tray with a light meal?"

She felt the rumble of his voice as he answered Mrs. Reynolds. Elizabeth was too embarrassed to straighten up and face the housekeeper after she had been hiding in Mr. Darcy's chest. Plus, it was so nice to be standing so close to him that she did not want to move. His arms were wrapped around her back and she held onto his coat.

"Should I carry you up the steps to your bedchamber, Mrs. Darcy?" His hot breath tickled her scalp. She shook her head.

"Are all the servants gone?" She was such a ninny.

She could feel his chuckle through his chest. That may be her new favorite place to rest her head.

"Yes, except for Mrs. Reynolds and the Mr. Jameson. Should I have them look away?"

She peeked an eye out and saw that both servants were busy looking elsewhere so she raised her eyes and delivered a flat stare at her husband. Which was ruined by the upturn of her lips. She turned away, Mr. Darcy caught her hand, and they both walked up the staircase holding hands.

They parted at their separate bedchambers but not before sharing longing looks that set her cheeks on fire. She entered her new bedchamber with a smile and desire in her eyes.

"Oh!" The room was beautifully done in pastels of rose and yellow, happy colors that Elizabeth loved. How did he know? He could not have ordered her bedchamber redone before they arrived could he? She would have to ask. He had been so pleasing during their courtship and engagement that she would not put it past him.

A large four poster bed took up the majority of the room, but there was still enough space left for a screen with a tub in a corner, a sitting area with a sofa and chairs a writing desk, vanity as well as a wardrobe. Elizabeth turned to take it all in with a hand upon her chest. She would have been happy with any colors and furniture truth be told, but this was almost right out of one of her girlish dreams. The only missing piece was a bookshelf full of books.

A knock at the door interrupted her musings. "Come in."

A maid entered and curtsied. "Pardon Mistress, but the hot water is here for your bath."

Elizabeth nodded, and the maid opened the door to let in several servants with pitchers of steaming water. Her hot bath was ready in less than a minute. Never had she had such fast service. No wonder Mr. Darcy had looked down at everything in the country if this was what real living among the upper class was like.

Her maid, Agatha, helped her undress but Elizabeth declined the offer of help to wash. That was one thing she could do herself and would not give up. Except she could use Agatha to pour water over her hair though. Her maid stayed on the other side of the screen while Elizabeth washed herself with the divine rose scented soap. She leaned back, relaxed against the tub and sighed.

The hot water felt so good on her tired and sore muscles. The roads were full of holes and ruts and even though Mr. Darcy's carriages were well sprung, travel was still a tedious and painful business. Elizabeth sighed again and slipped down farther into the steaming bath, closing her eyes. She would have pinched herself to determine this was not a dream but was too content to move.

She thought back to their engagement and the weeks until they married. Elizabeth smiled at the memories. Mr. Darcy was not the staid and formal man the world knew him as. Imagine if everyone was privy to this man, especially Miss Bingley, of how amorous he was, how clever he was at finding seconds to steal kisses.

Her favorite memory was when Mr. Darcy walked into the garden and offered to help pick and hang the flowers and herbs. Elizabeth giggled at how naïve she had been. He had leaned down next to her, trailing his fingers up her leg almost reaching her hip before he put his hand down. Or handed his herbs to her chest so when she took them, he ran a finger along the edge of her breast. Or when she held up the lavender stems and tied them to the ceiling hook, Mr. Darcy steadied her with his hands sliding along her waist and down her hips.

He had driven her to distraction in public, with her sister in attendance. Never did his countenance give away what he had been doing, except for a sly wink that no one else saw. She could not wait for that evening to consummate their marriage.

—

Mr. Darcy walked into his bedchamber with a smile. Finally, he was home and with Elizabeth as his wife, as he had dreamed. He pulled at his cravat and then stood still to let his valet, Mr. Simkin, undress him. That was for the best as his mind was most certainly not on his clothes or even anything in this room. His lips curled up as he thought of his new bride undressing and taking her bath. He heard Mr. Simkin cough and realized he had better stop thinking of Elizabeth while his valet was assisting in removing his clothes.

With his robe on, Mr. Simkin opened the door to the servants carrying buckets of steaming water. This was near the top of a list of what he missed about Pemberley while he had been in Hertfordshire. He stepped into his over large tub, sank down and sighed. No bath at Netherfield or any inn was as big as his at Pemberley.

Mr. Darcy rested his head on the edge of the bathing tub and closed his eyes, letting the hot water sooth his aching muscles. There was one muscle in particular that was sore. He had vowed to not relieve himself after they were married, but he was not sure he had completely thought that through. He was randy and Elizabeth was untouched, and from their conversations and teasing the last several weeks he knew she did not know much if anything regarding the marriage bed. Would he not take care with her if he was too aroused from being denied release for so long?

He picked up the bar of soap and lathered his chest and arms. Then he scrubbed most of the rest of his body. He rubbed the bar between his hands [REDACTED FOR MINORS]

His bedchamber door burst open. "Sir, your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh is in the sitting room."

All the air rushed out of his lungs as he fell back in the tub. His cockstand shriveled as he held it, still in shock over his valet's statement.

"My aunt," Mr. Darcy coughed, "My aunt is here? Downstairs?"

"Yes. Mr. Jameson did his best to direct her elsewhere, but she brushed him aside and entered. She stated that she will not leave until she sees you. What would you have me do, sir?"

Mr. Darcy growled and ducked his head as he poured bathwater over it. Of all the times, of all the days for her to make an unexpected visit to Pemberley. He raised his eyes. "Does my aunt know that my wife, my new bride, and I just arrived here ourselves?"

"Yes, sir."

"And does she also know that we were married a few days past?"

"She does, sir. She did mention it."

Mr. Darcy narrowed his eyes. Then he clenched his teeth and stood up. "Tell her that I am currently indisposed and unable to receive her. She will have to stay at the closest inn, which I believe is in Lambton."

He stepped out of the tub grabbing his towel off of the screen. He would have to dress quickly as he knew his aunt would not listen to his order. She would probably storm the house looking for him. He clenched his teeth as his valet gave his orders to a footman and returned to help Mr. Darcy dress. Lady Catherine de Bourgh had gone too far this time.

His hair still damp, he did not care to be perfectly presentable for an aunt that could not behave properly herself, Mr. Darcy walked to his bedchamber entrance to face his mother's sister. His valet opened the door to show Mr. Jameson in the process of knocking.

"Where is he? Where is my nephew?" His aunt's commanding voice could be heard even down the hall on the second floor.

Mr. Darcy turned his narrowed eyes on his butler.

"She has been demanding to speak with you. She refuses to stay at an inn."

Mr. Darcy nodded, his mouth flat and pinched. He stepped past Mr. Jameson to walk down the hallway towards the main staircase and his aunt.

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