Darcy gave an almost imperceptible snort. “We will not have to worry about that for some time. Not all babies are conceived immediately.”
“No, they are not, but you should begin considering it now rather than later.” He laughed and nudged Darcy in the side. “You know, Elinor’s mother used to say that the first baby could come at any time, after that, it takes nine months.”
“At least we will not have to worry about the gossip an early baby would bring.”
“Speaking of gossip,” Uncle Henry chuckled, “Elinor and I would have appreciated some warning yesterday.”
Darcy gave him a questioning look.
“We had no idea you were going to introduce Lizzy as your intended. Lady Selwyn appeared in our entry hall directly after calling upon Ashcroft. She appeared as though she had run the entire way, she was panting so hard.”
Giving a bark of laughter, Darcy set his empty wine glass on the table next to him. “No gossip or rumour could have reached my father in time for him to stop the wedding, so we thought it better to introduce her as my betrothed.”
“Lady Selwyn was under the impression you had asked for her hand some time ago.”
He smiled. Their plan had proven successful. “That was Grandmamma. She implied the arrangement between Elizabeth and I had been of some duration and was delayed to accommodate as much of the mourning period for the Bennets as possible.”
Uncle Henry shook his head. “My mother is truly diabolical. Selwyn did not marry that woman for her intelligence that much is certain.”
“Lady Selwyn does not give a care for accuracy,” interjected Aunt Elinor, as she stepped beside her husband. “She only cares that she has the latest tittle-tattle.”
“Which is why she was so useful yesterday.” The dowager smirked as she stepped into their group. “She was easily led to believe that Fitzwilliam and Lizzy had been betrothed since before her family’s passing. She even supposed that we kept the entire affair quiet because of the mourning period.”
Huntley snickered, drawing everyone’s attention. “I attended school with her son. He is much the same: a cloying gossip.”
“As is the father,” chimed in Uncle Henry. “He is forever attempting to ferret out information to hold over people for political gain.”
Aunt Elinor rolled her eyes with a distasteful expression upon her face. “I do not wish to discuss Lord and Lady Selwyn. We have been here all afternoon and it is time we return home. I am sure your mother did not plan dinner for all of us tonight.”
“No, I did not,” agreed his grandmother, “but I am certain we could accommodate you should you care to join us.”
“Thank you for the invitation, but I will not inconvenience your cook with a sudden change to a dinner for seven when she expects three.”
Offers of congratulations and joy were offered to the newly married couple, and soon, just the three of them were standing in the entrance.
Elizabeth broke the silence. “I would like to refresh myself before dinner.”
“Yes, of course, dear,” agreed his grandmother. “I will do the same after I see to a few household matters.”
His bride nodded and ascended the stairs. She went out of earshot when she turned to head down the corridor, and his grandmother grasped his arm.
“We need to discuss your wedding night.”
He groaned and attempted to wrest his arm back without injury to her. “I have already had this conversation with my uncle, and I will not have it with you.”
She pulled him back into the empty drawing room and shut the door.
“Then I will repeat what I assume he has already told you. You must, Fitzwilliam. I have even told Lizzy this.”
His eyes flew wide at her presumption, and he tugged his elbow from her. “I cannot believe you broached this subject with her!” He clenched and released his jaw to steady himself. “She will have the time she requires. I will not force anything upon her.”
His grandmother made a noise, resembling a growl, and he balked.
“You can be so stubborn!
“At the very least, the two of you should share a bed. I doubt anyone would dare to challenge the validity of your marriage when gossip of that makes the rounds.”
“I do not want our sleeping arrangements to be fodder for society to bandy about!” He rubbed his face roughly and took a few steps away. “I do not care to discuss this any further. Like Elizabeth, I wish to refresh myself before dinner. Grandmamma, I implore you not to bring this up during the meal.”
“When have I ever been so indiscreet?” she exclaimed. “I may have discussed the topic with both of you, but I was not so indelicate as to do so with you together.”
“Thank goodness for that!” He exited, and headed up to his new suite of rooms. His grandmother felt his former accommodations were not suitable for a married couple, so he and Elizabeth had been moved down the hall to two rooms that were joined.
Movement could be heard within Elizabeth’s chambers, and he wondered what she was thinking. His grandmother’s conversation must have unsettled her as much as it unsettled him—more so, he suspected.
James hurried in with warm water, and he decided to not give the matter any further thought for the moment. He would have to make a decision soon enough.
For Darcy, soon enough came much quicker than he anticipated. His grandmother did not join them for dinner, instead, she sent a note to inform them she would take a tray in her rooms. Elizabeth initiated a conversation on books and the rest of the evening progressed at a swift pace.
Now, he stood in his nightshirt and dressing gown before the door that connected his room to Elizabeth’s. Should he change his mind? What did Elizabeth think? Those questions turned over and over in his head until he became annoyed with himself.
“Blast,” he muttered. He rapped upon the hard oak before he could second-guess his resolve.
Her musical voice called for him to enter, so he reached out a shaking hand and turned the knob, opening the large wooden door at a snail’s pace. When he noticed his bride, he stopped.
She stood beside the bed in her dressing gown, her hair in a long braid down her back. At another time, he was certain he would have been studying her robe, the curve of her hip, or even attempting to catch a glimpse of her ankle, but tonight, his attention was caught by her wide eyes. No, he would not press.
“I would desire us to be more comfortable with one another before we…” Try as he might, he found himself tongue-tied and opened and shut his mouth twice before deciding to skip ahead. “It has been brought to my attention that we should at least share a bed for the night.”
Elizabeth’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded. “The same has been mentioned to me.” She clenched her palms together nervously. “Do you favour a particular side?”
“No.” He peered at the side tables. “Do you read before bed?”
“Sometimes, but I had not planned on it tonight.” She blew out the candle on her dressing table, and he followed her lead until the only candle left was on his side of the bed.
At some point, she must have taken advantage of his distraction, because she was already in the bed with the coverlet pulled up to her neck. He climbed in to the place left for him and curled to his side, facing her.
“Good night, Fitzwilliam.”
“Sleep well,” he replied.
He lay for some time, attempting to sleep, but his body would not cooperate. Elizabeth was quiet—too quiet. She was not moving a muscle, and even in the dim light of the room, her form could be distinguished all the way on the far edge of the bed. She was unlikely to be sleeping, and he hesitated to wake her in the event that she was. The situation was awkward, and he did not wish her any more discomfort than she endured already.
The next morning Darcy startled from his sleep for no reason that he could discover. The morning seemed as any other with the exception of the woman curled up close to the opposite edge of the mattress. The only clue that she had moved du
ring the night was the arrangement of the bedclothes. The night before, they were tucked up around her chin, and now, they were down around her knees.
Her shift, on the other hand, was bunched around the tops of her legs, drawing his attention to a jagged scar that began about mid-thigh only to disappear under the hem of her nightclothes. The injury still had a pinkish hue, indicating it had not completely faded in the months since the accident.
He studied the mark for some time, taking in her entire leg, foot to hip. She had smallish pretty feet. He had never considered before whether feet were attractive or unattractive, but Elizabeth’s were not large and her toes were proportional to the rest of the foot. Her ankles appeared delicate, yet she had confessed herself partial to long walks, which could be credited for their strength, as well as the shape and tone of the remainder of her legs.
Biting back a groan, he turned his head away from what she had bared. He had awakened in much the same state he did most mornings and his perusal of Elizabeth’s body was not helping matters. Things had only intensified and had become painful. He shifted in an attempt to press that matter down from where it was tenting the bed covers.
Elizabeth could not see him in that state—at least not yet, so he gingerly rose to sit on the side of the bed, facing away from her. He remained there taking deep breaths until he could walk comfortably, allowing himself one last glance as he donned his dressing gown, and slipped through the door to his chambers.
Elizabeth remained still when she woke not long after her husband’s hasty exit, debating whether he was still in the room for almost ten minutes before becoming frustrated. “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled as she rolled to her back. A great deal of relief, and to her surprise, a small bit of disappointment filled her; her husband no longer remained within her room.
They would be traveling to Sagemore, and Fitzwilliam wished to be off as soon as weather or light would allow. He must have arisen early in order to ensure they were ready to depart on time.
Her maid was as efficient as ever, and was putting the finishing touches on Elizabeth’s hair when a knock came from the door to Fitzwilliam’s room. They looked at one another with astonishment before Elizabeth gave a giggle and called for him to enter.
He was handsome in his choice of apparel for the day. “I thought I might escort you to the dining room, if you are ready.”
Why was she blushing? “Yes, I believe Hattie was just finishing. Were you not?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied. “I only have to put a few final things in your trunks. If you would set aside what you would like in the carriage, I will ensure it is there when you leave.”
“I will place the items on the bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hattie curtsied and wasted no time as she departed to the dressing room.
She glanced at Fitzwilliam. “It will only take a moment.”
“Of course.” He reached over to the table beside the bed and picked up a book, extending his arm to hand it to her. She thanked him and set about gathering odds and ends, which she stacked on the end of the mattress.
“Is that all you require?”
“Yes, I do not have many books I can keep with me whilst we travel.”
He offered her his arm, which she took so he could lead her out of the room.
“You should have a look through the library at Sagemore before we continue on to Bath. The trip is longer, so you will require more to occupy your time.”
“Is there a large library at Sagemore?”
“No, my uncle was never a great reader. I have added many books since I took over the estate, and I have considered expanding the library.”
She smiled, pleased her husband was as fond of books as she was. They seemed to have a great deal in common. She was perhaps a bit more open and animated than him, but he might allow her in more, with time and familiarity.
The dowager was already seated and sipping her tea when they entered. “I hope the two of you found your suite comfortable?”
“I had no issues with the rooms,” her husband answered. “I believe we both found them acceptable.”
Elizabeth nodded while she placed a piece of toast on her plate. “I found my bedchamber to be quite comfortable. I am particularly fond of the view of the back garden.”
“Splendid,” the older lady exclaimed. “Those shall be your rooms whenever you come to town in the future.” She gave Darcy a look as if she did not approve of something. “Your uncle mentioned last night that you had thought to begin using your own house. If you would not mind, I would prefer you continue to stay here when you travel to London.”
Her husband appeared somewhat taken aback. “I simply thought there might be a day when you would like us to be in our own home.”
“I have always enjoyed your company, Fitzwilliam, and I adore Lizzy. There is no reason you should not stay here.”
Fitzwilliam opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, but he glanced at his wife, and gave a casual shrug.
“Very well, Grandmamma.”
His grandmother grinned widely, and Elizabeth stifled a chuckle at her husband bowing to his grandmother’s wishes. He could be very considerate when he wished to be.
The three of them discussed the next few months while they partook of their tea and toast. The dowager intended to close the house and remove to her home at Matlock for the summer. They had a standing invitation to visit her there if Uncle Henry and Aunt Elinor did not issue an invitation.
They were just finishing their meal when the butler entered, shooing the footman back to the kitchen. He leaned over and whispered something in his mistress’ ear, prompting her to grin.
“Good,” she said aloud. “Thank you, Hobbes.”
The servant gave a slight bow and stepped against the wall where he remained. Elizabeth’s curiosity had the better of her, and she observed the butler and her new grandmother in an attempt to discern what was happening.”
The lady only laughed. “You will bore a hole in either my head or Hobbes’ if you continue staring at us in that manner.”
Elizabeth started and reached for her teacup. “I apologise.”
His grandmother shook her head. “No, I should not have had Hobbes inform me whilst at the table, but I asked him to alert me at once, should a little plan I implemented this morning succeed.”
Her husband’s head whipped around to face her. “What have you done?”
“It was done and done for the best. Your father and Lady Catherine cannot attempt to claim that your marriage is a sham.”
The shocking news caused a piece of toast to become lodged in her throat, and tears came to her eyes as she choked. Questions flew through her mind she could not ask. What had she done and what had this plan entailed?
The dowager moved her teacup in front of her, and when her coughing subsided, she took a large sip of tea, her face crimson.
“What exactly has been concocted to prevent such claims?”
“I simply had my abigail remove your bed linens and put them in the full laundry tub before the regular maids entered the room to clean. In addition, my new housemaid also noted that Fitzwilliam’s bed has not been used and announced it before the kitchen staff and the delivery boy for the butcher.”
Heat radiated from Elizabeth’s face and her husband came around the table to take a seat beside her. “Do not let it bother you,” he said softly. “I doubt a butcher’s boy is the origin for much gossip in town, and I am certain such a source would not be taken seriously.”
“Sarah has told me quite a bit of gossip from that young man, which I hear bandied about at the next ball or tea a day or two later. You might be surprised.”
Fitzwilliam closed his eyes in apparent exasperation. “Grandmamma,” he groaned. “It was in the event my father or Lady Catherine appeared at this house or Sagemore—not for you to circulate around town.”
“It is so much more effective this way.” She placed her cup on the saucer. “Do you not see? Your fath
er would no more believe a servant loyal to you or me than he would your testimony. However, if all of society knows you share chambers and have since you were married, he cannot refute it.”
“I am unaccustomed to having such personal information dispersed as gossip.” Elizabeth swallowed in an attempt to not feel ill.
“Please do not make yourself uneasy, Lizzy,” his grandmother interrupted. “It will have long blown over by the time you return to London. I thought it important that when George comes to town, which he will very soon, the gossip should still be circulating.”
Anger welled inside her at the dowager’s blasé attitude towards the business. “I do not want the details of our lives to be circulated! What happens behind the closed doors of our bedchambers should not be bandied about for the amusement or derision of others! It is private!”
She turned to her husband, and he took her hand, clasping it between his.
“Do not worry. Some scandal will crop up that everyone will decide is more interesting than us sharing a bedchamber, which is not completely unheard of.”
“I do not care if the gossip will wane; it should have never been dispersed!”
He leaned in and placed one hand to her back. His reassurance was effective and appreciated, causing her to sigh.
I would simply like to forget that this information ever left our chambers.” She glanced back to her husband. “To think of the past only as its remembrance gives me pleasure.”
He chuckled and stood, pulling her up with him. “Perhaps the best way to start is to leave the past behind us? Hobbes, have you any word on our carriage?”
“They were hitching the last of the horses when I came upstairs, sir. I am sure it is ready by now. Your servants and trunks have already departed.”
Fitzwilliam peered down to her place setting. “Are you finished?”
She placed the napkin in her free hand beside her plate. “I am.” His elbow appeared before her.
An Unwavering Trust Page 14
