There was so much about him that she still did not understand. She knew very little about his past and family. Did her rejection strike a tender nerve in his heart? Weeks ago, she would never have thought that Mr. Darcy was anything less than arrogant and over-confident. Now she could see shades of uncertainty in his conduct. She perceived, too, that every time she sought to explain her growing but unclear feelings, they rang as hollow as mere gratitude to him. If Elizabeth’s arrival at his home and pleading for a second chance did not convince Darcy that she loved him, with any luck her plans involving Charlotte and Caroline would.
Finally, she reached Darcy House in the expensive Mayfair district of London. At any other time, Elizabeth’s slight tremble would be due to the size of the homes and the thought of being mistress of something so large. Today, it was entirely the effect of her nerves. As boldly as she could, she alighted from the carriage and approached the door, announcing herself as Mrs. Darcy to the butler when it opened.
To his credit, the man’s face remained impassive. He brought her inside and had her wait in the upstairs sitting room. It was a large, well-appointed room, decorated with a timeless elegance rather than overdone finery. She could not remain on the sofa. Instead, she peered out the window at the street. Elizabeth had left so early in the day that very few people were about. She imagined most of the residents in this neighbourhood would still be abed. Indeed, she saw a few gentlemen who looked as though they had been out all night. Her pulse raced at the thought that her husband could be one of them. Had she driven him to rakish living? She shook her head to dispel the notion. He would never resort to that.
“I am so sorry, William,” Elizabeth murmured and clutched the object in her pocket. A lone tear streaked down her face.
“Elizabeth?” a voice rasped barely above a whisper, but she would know the voice anywhere.
Slowly, she turned, her heart jumping in her throat at the sight of her beloved. Darcy looked ill—faint, even, as though he had not eaten well—with dark shadows under his eyes. Indeed, a moment ago, a similarly haunted look stared back at her in the windowpane.
“It is you,” he whispered. He slowly approached her, as though she might disappear.
Before Elizabeth could gather her wits and think of what to say to such a greeting, Darcy ceased his movements. A look of coldness overtook his features. She gulped. This is what she had been afraid of seeing.
Elizabeth moved to the sofa. “I apologise if you are surprised to see me. I believe we have much to discuss. Might we sit?”
Darcy raised a brow and took a chair opposite her. Elizabeth’s stomach dropped in further disappointment. He would not sit next to her or make this easy for her.
“First, allow me to apologise—” A maid entered, interrupting Elizabeth. The woman set the tray down and dashed out of the room as though she expected to be scolded.
Using the disruption to gather her thoughts, Elizabeth focused on serving the tea. She nearly dropped the cup on Darcy’s lap as he awkwardly took it from her so their fingers would not graze. Did he know how much she had hoped for just a sliver of his touch?
They sipped their tea in silence for a few minutes before Darcy finally drained his cup and set it down. “I thought you had something to say to me. However, if you do not, then you will excuse me. If you desire to stay, please speak to the housekeeper about preparing your rooms.”
Elizabeth blinked at him. She forced herself to see beyond his curt words. He held himself stiffly; he looked uncomfortable, pained even. Could it be that being in the room with her brought him the same agony she currently felt? He was attempting to be civil and protect his heart at the same time. Oh, her dearest William!
“I apologise for my confusion since our marriage. I did not intend to hurt you, but I believe I have.”
“No apology is necessary. You acted exactly as you should have. You should not be sorry for your feelings.” Darcy stood.
Panicking, Elizabeth held up her hand. “Please, William. I came here to tell you that I love you! It took me too long to realise it, and I know you may no longer welcome it, but I thought I should tell you.” She ended the words on a whisper. It took every ounce of courage she had to put her pride behind her and be so honest and vulnerable.
“There is no need to lie to me, Elizabeth.” Darcy approached the door. “I waited in Hertfordshire for weeks for a sign of your esteem. I have been in London for a week, and you did not even take the trouble of replying to my letter.”
“What letter?” Elizabeth stood.
Darcy’s hand hovered over the doorknob. He turned to look at her, scrutinising her face. “I had thought you too charitable to toy with my feelings this way. What is it? Are there rumours in Meryton that bring you here? Has Miss Bingley been unkind to you?”
“William,” Elizabeth said firmly, “I had no letter from you. What letter do you mean?”
“How can that be? I left it beside you.”
“On the table?”
“No. On the pillow.”
On his pillow. The one she had held to her nightly as she cried her heart into it. “I saw nothing. I awoke, and you were gone. I went to the sitting room, hoping to find you. I entered your room—even your dressing room. That is when I realised you had left Netherfield. By the time a maid brought me back to my bed, I could not see clearly. Perhaps it fell.”
Elizabeth could see Darcy’s throat working as he swallowed at her words. She hoped the new look in his eye was one of acceptance. “Why could you not see?”
“I had been crying.” She approached him. “If you wish, I will tell you about my pain, the searing agony I felt knowing you had left me. Not even my father’s death had brought me to such desolation.”
“Elizabeth, you do not need to tell me more. How can you love me when you thought I left you so unjustly? I can never forgive myself for wounding you.”
“You did nothing unjust! I did not blame you. I knew I fully deserved it!”
“But to leave you without a word? That is unforgivable!”
“I think it is exactly what I needed.” Darcy started at her words, and Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. “Let me explain. I did not know until then that I loved you. I would relive that pain a thousand times if it brought me such understanding. What made it intolerable was knowing it was all due to my own folly and the fear that I may never have another chance to see you. I did not know if you wished to permanently separate or planned on deciding later. I only knew that you had offered me your love, and I had rejected it. I knew I had hurt you and that you could no longer wait as I tore your heart to shreds. I had no letter, but I think if I had, I would not have spent so much time in reflection. In the end, I had to make an effort to come to you, unsure of my reception but finally willing to name my feelings and stare down my fears.”
“Elizabeth.” Darcy pulled her into his arms. Her head rested over his beating heart. “I did leave you a letter. I wrote that I thought a little bit of time away from each other would be best, but if you still desired to attend Camden’s dinner, I would retrieve you. I also wrote that I would always wait for you and give you as much time as you needed. It did not matter that my heart was breaking. I would go through Hell for you!”
Elizabeth could not stop the sob that tore from her throat at Darcy’s declaration. That is what it meant to truly love someone. He had been willing to sacrifice so much for her sake, and now she was ready to do it for him. “I understand now,” she said through the tears. “Do you believe me? Please do not say that you doubt my love again.”
“I will not, as I think I understand what you must have been through.” He led her back to the sofa and pulled her onto his lap, circling his arms around her. “You heard nothing from me and decided to approach me anyway?”
Elizabeth nodded against his shoulder.
“That must have cost quite a lot of pride. And you hired a coach?”
“Mr. Bingley would not let me. He offered to escort me, but I could not wait until it
suited his schedule. He lent me his carriage and servants as companions.”
“But you did not know where I was!”
Smiling, Elizabeth lifted her head. “I could not be certain, but I thought I knew enough of you to think that London was the most likely place.”
Darcy chuckled. “Do you know that I had a wild thought of going to the seaside? I imagined you coming to me there and us having a proper honeymoon.”
“That sounds splendid. Let us do that after the dinner with the Camdens.” Elizabeth stared at Darcy in wonder. She placed a hand on his cheek. “I have missed you so very much, William. I never wish to be parted from you again.”
“Never,” Darcy agreed before meeting her lips.
They took their time welcoming each other in a way that words could never convey. Between the kisses were hushed words of promise and love. The broken pieces of Elizabeth’s heart mended and sealed—stronger than they had been before. She marvelled at how suddenly everything was so very right in the world. Even when she could not understand what she had felt for this man and her life seemed upside down, it always felt perfect in his arms.
“Are you tired from your journey?” Darcy said at last, breaking the connection of their lips.
“No, but I deserve to see the master’s chamber, do I not?”
“I will perish if I do not escort you there this very moment,” Darcy said against her neck.
Interrupting Elizabeth’s moan of delight, he set her feet on the ground and tugged her to the door. Hand in hand, they raced to the stairs. They were nearly to Darcy’s bedchamber when there was a loud commotion at the main entrance.
A loud angry voice boomed from below. “Let me see him! And his little hussy, too!”
Chapter Twenty- Three
Darcy stopped his forward motion as all previous anticipation and arousal at continuing the reunion with Elizabeth in his bed disappeared. He recognised the voice as that of his uncle. Why was the earl at his house and accosting his servants? Why was he so angry?
“Find your master!” the earl yelled at the butler. “I will wait in the library.” There was the sound of rushed footsteps, and then the earl called out, “And order tea!”
Darcy opened the door to his chamber and motioned for Elizabeth to enter. She had an unreadable look on her face. “Wait here. I will send him away. I do not know what he wants, but I will not allow him to abuse you.”
“I think I may know why he is here,” Elizabeth said, turning pink.
“You do?”
“I did not imagine he would storm over here, but I daresay my plan made its mark.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you a copy of The Times?”
Darcy nodded, unsure why Elizabeth needed the paper and how it could be connected to his uncle. He retrieved the paper from where he had left it on his chair by the fire. Handing it over, he watched in fascination as Elizabeth opened to the Society section and began scanning the page.
“Here we are,” she said with a tone of triumph. “‘The paper is pleased to report that Lady B of Hampshire and Mrs. R of Yorkshire confirm that the Earl and Countess F have met with Mr. D of Pemberley’s new bride and find her utterly genteel and delightful. Faithful readers of our publication will recall that he married in reported haste some weeks ago. Mystery has surrounded the situation, including his wife’s identity and origins, ever since. Rumours his family disapproved of the match and refused to recognise the marriage have circulated. Many said Mrs. D’s avoidance of London meant the marriage was already strained, assumingly because her husband regretted his choice due to the lady’s connections in trade, including wealthy merchant Edw. Gardiner of Cheapside. Others claimed that Mr. D broke off contact with his family, grieving Lord and Lady F, who were after the Pemberley purse. Lady F confirms that Mrs. D will be formally introduced to London Society at a party hosted by the Marquess and Marchioness of Cam—on the sixth of this month.
“‘Further reports say that Lady C, widow of Sir Lewis DB, whose daughter was long reported to be betrothed to Mr. D, welcomes her niece as well, stating ‘Love triumphs all.’”
“Good lord! Where on earth did they get their information?” Darcy had observed that suspected gossip page informants had seemed to take notice of his movements since being in Town.
“Caroline Bingley,” Elizabeth answered with a sly smile.
“You engineered this?”
“Are you angry? I had thought it a way to prove my devotion by action and nip the reports of a breach, not only between us but with your relatives, in the bud.”
“Very cleverly done, my love!” Darcy kissed his wife just as there was indistinct shouting and the slamming of a door downstairs. “I had better go deal with that,” he said with a sigh.
“Would you like me to come as well? I made the mess, after all.”
“I would not subject you to whatever he has to say.”
“It does not bother me,” Elizabeth said. “I know that you love me.”
“More than anything,” Darcy agreed fervently.
“Will you allow me to stand by your side now and always? Let us face our trials together.”
In answer, Darcy wrapped his hand around his wife’s, and they left the room. Words were not needed. The butler hovered in the hall, and Darcy told him he had done well but now would handle the matter. Feeling like a king with his queen on his arm, Darcy entered his library, head held high.
“Good. You brought the strumpet.”
“What have I said about treating my wife with respect? My footmen could eject you from the house.”
“You would not dare!” The earl turned red in anger but glanced uneasily at the door.
“Only if you continue to be so rude to Mrs. Darcy.”
“If you think I am upset, just wait for Catherine to arrive. She will string you up by your toes.”
“I very much doubt she can do much more than you—which is only to rant and rave. I am not one of your political cronies to be bullied by such antics.” Darcy took a step back towards the door. “I am waiting for an apology, Uncle.”
The earl glared first at Elizabeth and then Darcy. After a moment of silence, he relented. “Very well. I apologise for insulting your wife. Pray, would you introduce us?”
“Thank you. I most happily oblige to your request. Dearest, this is my uncle, the Earl Fitzwilliam. My lord, allow me to present my wife, Elizabeth Darcy.” Darcy raised Elizabeth’s hand to his lips. “Do not worry, my love. His bark is worse than his bite.”
“He does not frighten me, darling. I have survived four sisters and an anxious mother.”
Darcy led Elizabeth to the settee and took a seat beside her, keeping her hand in his. He had never felt the least bit tempted to cave to any of his uncle’s demands. However, this time, he appreciated having company in the battle. Seeing the tea things, Elizabeth set about serving them.
“Do you know what this is?” the earl said, without touching his cup. He held up a sheet of newsprint ripped from the page.
“I can hazard a guess,” Darcy said.
“Then you do know about this! It could not have been you who manipulated this article. Your wife is a schemer, Darcy! I warned you.” He clenched his fist around the paper and shook his finger at his nephew.
“I will allow that it was Mrs. Darcy’s idea, but I applaud it wholeheartedly. It clears up all the rumours in one fell swoop.”
“And you roped Camden into this somehow?” He looked at Elizabeth.
“Never doubt what can be accomplished by making a man’s wife happy,” she answered enigmatically, then took a sip of tea.
“Too true.” Lord Fitzwilliam chuckled. “However, I did not think you knew him, Mrs. Darcy.”
Darcy laughed as well. “When he heard I had married, his wife eagerly sent an invitation for both of us. I have since met Lady Camden and believe she and Elizabeth will soon become fast friends. You see, we would have managed without your support. This article allows you to save
face. Unless, that is, you would prefer to be cut from my notice? You may or may not have had your eye on Pemberley’s accounts, but I know that you do need my sway for Harold to win in the next election.”
“You would hold my sins against your cousin? Harold has no other way of life outside of Parliament.”
“It is a shame that although his father is an earl, he has no money set aside for his sons. Harold could always join the army as Richard has done.”
“No! One son in the service is more than enough. Fine, fine. Your aunt and I will recognise you and Mrs. Darcy in public.”
“That will not be enough, sir.” Darcy looked at his wife and squeezed her hand. “She has come from a close family of sisters and has relations living in London.”
“Yes, this Gardiner. Do not think I do not know what you have been up to with him.”
“Oh, I am sure you know all about it. I wish for us to be a real family. No more scheming and demands. I should like to host a dinner for Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle and my aunt and uncle to meet.”
“You go too far!”
“Honestly, Uncle, you just agreed that you needed more income. Perhaps you ought to consider investing in Gardiner’s enterprise. Now that we have the nobles paying their bills, business is booming.”
“I will have to consider that,” the earl said. “Now, about Catherine…”
“Anne’s dowry—that is, Rosings—would be better for Harold or Richard. I believe she would happily have either of them. Why not talk to my cousins and see what arrangement meets their needs.”
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