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David
by Deborah W.
February 2003, Firthness Challenge Entry
Rated PG
Elizabeth ran her hand over Fitzwiliam bare chest. She
looked down her husband’s body and sighed. "You are so
beautiful. I look at you and think of Michealangelo’s
‘David’".
"I am flattered that you think that highly of me." He
kissed the top of her head. "When did you see ‘David’?
You have never been out of England." He began to run his
hand over his wife’s hip.
"I will tell you the story of my seeing it. Stop that, you
will distract me and I want to tell you this."
Fitzwilliam pouted and removed his hand. "I just want to
play."
"Later, this won’t take long. Mama insisted that I come
out at 16. In Meryton, that was acceptable, even expected. That
winter, I went to London to stay with the Gardiners. Since I was
out, we went to a few balls. For Valentine’s Day, we went to a
ball at the Earl of ----‘s. I was very excited and had a new
gown. Aunt Gardiner bought it for me. It was pale, pale pink
silk, very beautiful. It was my first true grownup gown, as it
was cut low."
"I am sure you were very beautiful in it. I like it when
your gowns are cut low. I like it better when they are off of
you." His hand began exploring again.
"Will, do you want to hear this or not?"
"Very well, but I will claim my prize for waiting when you
are done."
She kissed his shoulder where her head lay. "I will gladly
pay." She snuggled down again and continued the story.
"The Countess is a good friend of my Aunt’s and took a
fancy to me. She had me dancing the entire evening with almost
every eligible man in the room. There was one I know I did not
dance with," she mused. Elizabeth shrugged and kissed her
husband again.
"During the supper, she took me to the conservatory to see
her roses. She had some that matched my dress exactly. She cut a
bud and placed it in my hair, saying it would increase my beauty.
I believe the Countess thought to marry me off that night. I am
glad she did not."
"And were is the ‘David’ in all of this?"
Fitzwilliam sounded thoughtful.
"I am getting to it. As we continued around the
conservatory, we came to an open area that had a half scale
statue of ‘David’ in it. They had purchased it while
traveling in Italy and it had only been installed the previous
week. I had never seen a statue like that before, and was a
little embarrassed. I must confess though, I was fascinated also.
The Countess, in her enthusiasm for the sculpture, and not
thinking of the innocence of her audience, pointed out every
detail of the masterpiece. And I mean every detail. Eventually
she ran out of comments and we moved on to view more flowers.
Soon after that the Countess was called away by a servant and
being alone in the conservatory, I went back to study the
‘David’ more.
"I was standing in front of it, looking at the, uhm, face,
when I heard a noise. I turned and there was a young man behind
me, also looking at the ‘David’. I remember he was tall and
dark and handsome. I did not recall having seen him at the ball
earlier. He did not look at me, only at the statue. He said
‘Michealangelo’s idea of male perfection. Have you seen the
original?’ I replied that I had not and looked at the ground.
The man said, ‘you should, it is twice the size. Most
beautiful. I saw it when I was in Italy two years ago.’ He told
me of seeing other works of art. It seemed he talked for a long
time. I just looked at his shoes. He ended by talking about
Michealangelo’s 'Madonna della Pieta'. He said, ‘The Madonna
of the Pieta is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’
Putting a finger under my chin, he raised my head and looked at
me. He flashed a dazzling smile at me. I was nervous and
embarrassed, but I smiled back. Quietly he said, ‘you are
almost as beautiful.’ He then bowed and left the room. When I
returned to the ballroom, he had left the dance.
"I always remembered that night and the ‘David’. Since
then, I have always associated ‘David’ with that man’s
words, ‘male perfection’. But now, my dear husband, you are
my idea of male perfection."
He kissed her hair again. "Thank you, Elizabeth. It always
astounds me that you love me, and now this. I do not deserve you,
darling. Would you like to go to Italy this fall? After the
harvest is in? You could see the original ‘David’ and compare
it to me. I will even pose with a sling shot," he teased.
"Mmm," she slid her hand down his belly. "I like
the idea of you posing for me. But I have already found parts of
you that well exceed Michealangelo’s imagination." She
busied herself for a few minutes, to her husband’s delight.
"Could we go to Italy this spring? I don’t want to be away
from Pemberly in the fall."
"We can go this spring if you wish. But why do you want to
be at Pemberly in the fall?"
"Shouldn’t the heir of Pemberly be born here?" She
looked up at him. He looked shocked. "Are you pleased,
Fitzwilliam?"
"Very. Let me show you how much." He pulled her closer
and spent a considerable amount of time expressing his pleasure,
to both their satisfactions.
When they were once again lying quietly together, Elizabeth
observed sleepily, "that Valentine’s Day at the ball was
the best I had, until today. I love you very much,
Fitzwilliam."
"Elizabeth, about that night at the Earl’s ball. I gave
you insult and I apologize. I did not know you, so could not tell
you what I truly thought. Then and now, I think you are more
beautiful than the Madonna."

Copyright held by Deborah W. - 2003
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