The Lost Heir

by Harriet Knowles

  “Yes, sir. All is well, and the servants are well-accommodated.” His steward had been in the background all day, superbly competent, and Darcy hadn’t needed to worry about anything.

  “Thank you, Mr. Reed. I hope you have a comfortable night.”

  He hurried back up the stairs to his chamber, where his valet had hot water steaming in the basin, and his nightshirt and robe laid out on the bed.

  “Thank you, Mr. Maunder. I can manage.” Darcy had to be alone for these few minutes, and prepare himself to join his wife. At times in the months gone by, he had despaired of ever being able to make her his own, but all those troubles were in the past, and now they need never be parted again.

  Despite lack of sleep, all trace of weariness had left him, and all his hopes and desires were towards Elizabeth and pleasing her. He wanted to prove to her she would never regret agreeing to marry him.

  He knocked softly on the connecting door between their chambers, hoping she had completed her toilette.

  “Enter, William.” There was barely a tremble in her voice, and she was standing waiting for him, her nightshift drifting around her delicate form in the light of the single candle, and the thin rays of the waning moon peeped through the gap in the heavy curtains.

  A few strides, and he gathered her hungrily into his arms. “Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”

  She lifted her face to him, and he drew her closer as her arms wrapped round his neck. He lifted his lips from hers at her smothered laugh.

  “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “It is nothing. As you have, I, too, have been longing to be alone with you, and able to draw my fingers through your hair without fear of discovery as to how I feel.”

  She shivered and he lifted her and carried her towards the bed. “Come, I don’t want you to get cold.”

  “I don’t think I’m cold.” There was laughter in her voice, but anxiety, too.

  He placed her gently under the covers, and waited only long enough to strip off his robe and extinguish the candle before he joined her and drew her into his arms. “Please don’t be afraid. I will be very gentle.”

  Her lips found his. “I’m not anxious about it, William. Only that I do not disappoint you.” Her murmur and the breath of her words against his lips caused his ardour to rise and his embrace tightened.

  “You can never disappoint me, Elizabeth. My wife, my beloved.”

  He woke much later, as the morning sunlight stole into the room, and Elizabeth was curled in his embrace. She must have been weary too, but her love and joy in his company had kept them whispering long into the night.

  Sleepily, he kissed her forehead, and pulled her closer to him. Her murmur of contentment echoed his own feelings. He couldn’t recall ever feeling so secure, or ever feeling he had found someone whom he wished to be with always.

  He smiled slightly. He’d always been more content with his own company than any other, although he could be companionable — after a fashion — but he’d never enjoyed the practice. Now he knew what it was like to wish to be with someone, what it was to want to please them more than his own desires.

  Her soft laugh drew his attention. “Are you awake, dearest?”

  “I am.” Her eyes danced. “I’ve been watching your very expressive feelings. So what are you thinking?”

  “That I am the happiest of men.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Never leave me, Elizabeth. You hold my heart in your hands.”

  She lifted her hand from his tight embrace with some difficulty, and traced the side of his jaw with a delicate finger, leaving a trail of fire along his skin. “I’ll never leave you, William. My need of you is at least as great as yours for me.”

  He managed to spare a hand, and captured hers in his, lifting it to his lips to kiss each finger in turn. “Together.”

  Smiling, she rolled her head to take a glimpse at the sky. “It must be getting very late. Whatever must people be thinking of us?”

  He chuckled. “I care not, and neither should you.” He began kissing her fingers again. “No one will say anything. And I care naught, except what you think of me.” The feeling of her body pressed against his was the greatest joy he could imagine. “We need not start out until after lunch; the road is good and it is barely fifty miles.”

  “Mmm.” She snuggled closer. “Well, we will stay in the warm and you can say where we’re going.”

  “Winchester. But I don’t wish to talk.” He knew his tone was full of laughter, and her blush was all the answer he needed.

  74

  She leaned against him in the coach, her body as close as he would always wish it. “What is the purpose of our call today, William?”

  He rested his head against hers. “I hope you don’t mind, dearest one.” They were journeying the ten miles from Winchester to Bishopstoke after another night at a good inn. “I am taking you to where I was found, back in ’ninety-eight. You are the only person I will have divulged the details to, but I want to introduce you to Mr. Owen. He is the apothecary there, and the man I am certain saved my life.”

  Elizabeth’s hand tightened on his. “I’ll be glad to be able to thank him.”

  Darcy nodded. “I went to see him before I called on you at Longbourn. I needed to talk to him about being Darcy.” He glanced at her rapt face. “He is much more than a village apothecary, he seemed to understand my disquiet at not knowing who I was, even when I was first recovering. And I needed to talk about whether I should renounce Darcy once the family were safe, and go back to being Stoke, where I might have a chance of winning your hand.”

  “Oh, William!” Elizabeth shook her head, and he smiled.

  “He helped me understand that remaining as Darcy was probably the best thing to do, as regards being able to feel secure, and that I ought to be able to persuade you to join me in the endeavour to be a gentleman.” Her laughter caused him to join in wryly.

  “I’m glad you did.” Her hand stole around his. “I know it is not exactly as we wanted, and having to endure a full society wedding was also not perfect. But, William, it will be an immeasurable help later on, as you take your rightful place in that society. And so many people want to help you.”

  “Us,” he corrected, thickly.

  “Us,” she responded softly. “I’ll be happy to meet Mr. Owen. Is there anyone else we will call on?”

  He nodded. “We’ll go to the parsonage where they took me in. Mr. Monson is an old man now, and I paid the amount required for the repair of the steeple, which pleased him. His housekeeper, Mrs. Pedder, cared for me diligently, and is probably equally to be thanked for my survival.” The pressure of her thigh against his was comforting. “I want you to meet them, and show them how fortunate I am to have you beside me.”

  Back at the now-familiar post inn, Darcy gave Elizabeth lunch while Reed went to see when Owen might be free to see them. As they took tea in the parlour afterwards, he saw the two men coming towards them.

  “Mr. Reed is bringing Mr. Owen, Elizabeth.” He watched her rise and look out for the window, before turning to the mantel and ringing the bell.

  “I’ll call for more tea.”

  Darcy’s heart nearly burst with pride as he introduced Elizabeth to the man he thought as much a mentor as Gardiner.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Darcy.” Mr. Owen seemed to take to Elizabeth, as Darcy had known he would. “Thank you for ordering tea.”

  “Sit down, Mr. Owen,” Elizabeth murmured. “William has explained to me this morning why he had never mentioned this place, or named the people here, until he felt you would be safe. And this morning he has told me how much you assisted him.” She flashed a smile at Darcy before turning back to the apothecary. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping him. He is the best man I have ever known.”

  The apothecary smiled and sipped at his tea, observing them. “I think I can say Mr. Darcy appears a great deal happier and more content than when I saw him a few weeks ago, Mrs. Darcy. I
would attribute that entirely to your marriage. I wish you both much joy and happiness.”

  William watched her smile light up the room. “I think if you had met me before, Mr. Owen, you’d be able to say the same about me. Finally, I can feel at home wherever I am with him, although William has had the harder journey.”

  The heat on the back of his neck heralded a flush, Darcy knew. But neither of the others remarked on it.

  Owen nodded. “Do either of you wish me to give advice on anything?”

  Darcy’s throat closed up, and he glanced at Elizabeth, who smiled serenely. “I expect I will need to return and ask you that in a few months’ time. But, for today, I’d like to thank you for advising William that your nephew could take Lombard to Darcy House, and then permit him to ride him up to Pemberley. I know William will be glad to be able to see the horse live out his retirement there.” Her hand stole into his. “But perhaps there is something William wishes to know?” She looked at him enquiringly.

  He shifted a little in his chair. “I am not sure I want to cause you any concern, Elizabeth.”

  She reached for his hand. “I wouldn’t wish to cause you any discomposure, William. You might take a turn along the path with Mr. Owen. I am happy to read my book.”

  Darcy soon found himself back leaning over the same rail at the mill pond beside Owen.

  “Mrs. Darcy seems extraordinarily understanding, William.” Mr. Owen gazed at the water, seeming to know Darcy would find it easy to talk without eyes upon him.

  He nodded. “I can imagine spending my life with no other.”

  “Has there been any difficulty with your family?”

  “No.” Darcy smiled humourlessly. “For two reasons, I believe. Firstly, I gave my father an ultimatum, and he agreed to welcome her as the price of keeping me, and also, the Duchess of Durdar asked her to stay with them in London and sponsored her into society. She gave us quite the society wedding.”

  “Yes, I read about it in this morning’s paper,” the other man murmured. “I was happy to have had your note yesterday.”

  Darcy grimaced. “I’ll be glad to get to Pemberley and have several months there. My father has chosen to stay in London to give us time in Derbyshire.”

  “I’m happy about that, but I think there was a concern you wished to talk about?”

  Darcy nodded reluctantly. “I am concerned if those nightmares I told you about continue following our marriage. After we spoke last, I had hopes they might at least become less frequent, but they did not.” He faced the other man. “I would not wish to distress Elizabeth if they continue.”

  The other looked sad. “Has the nature of the fear changed? I know at first, you recalled an instant of the incident that found you here, and later, after Mrs. Darcy and your sister were taken by Wickham, the nature changed to fear you would lose her, and agonies of what she must be going through.”

  Darcy grimaced again. “It has. Often now, it is the fear I would somehow lose her before we could wed, that someone would prevent our marriage.”

  The older man nodded understandingly. “And now you are afraid you will dream of losing her, now you know what it is like to be happy and content?”

  “Yes, you’re correct.” Darcy sighed. “Will I ever be free of them? It has been years.”

  “It depends what you mean by free of them, William.” Mr. Owen looked pensive. “All these years you talk about having suffered them, I’m sure they didn’t resolve because you were still living it — alone and insecure in your deepest thoughts.”

  He shrugged. “I know no one else knew, and you did not allow it to affect your work and your act of self-reliance. But you were never able to talk to anyone else, willing to take advice or accept help from anyone. I am not surprised they continued.”

  Darcy sighed deeply. “Is there no hope? I would not care for Elizabeth to be frightened if I am disturbed by one.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Owen smiled, and they turned to continue walking. “I think they will certainly lessen as you become more secure in your new life and in your marriage. But I do think you must confide in Mrs. Darcy. If she does not know, she may well be distressed the first time it happens.” He stopped and faced Darcy.

  “Now you are married, you are no longer alone. You do not have to do everything yourself any more. Your wife seems to me to be a strong person, well able to assist you in your new life — not just with all the things you have to do and the people you will be working with — but in here.” He tapped Darcy’s chest.

  “You must talk to her, admit you need her help.” He met Darcy’s eyes. “Do not shut her out, or it may bring disagreement and disappointment that you cannot admit to a weakness. Marriage is about sharing burdens and supporting each other. Think about those vows you made, and acknowledge you are equal.”

  Darcy stared at him. “I didn’t think I was too proud to admit I could not solve this alone.”

  “I know. It’s a mistaken sort of pride, to believe you have managed for so long without help, and you can continue to do so. But now you’re married, your life is no longer solely your own — and I am certain you’ll be happier for it, once you have settled.”

  As they walked silently back to the inn, Darcy deep in thought, he wondered how he could talk to Elizabeth. Even after they had bade their farewells to Owen and the occupants of the parsonage, he was quiet in the coach as it bore them towards Bath and their stay there.

  75

  Elizabeth wriggled her hand into William’s under cover of the table at the Fox Inn at Warminster on their way to Bath.

  “I am counting on you telling me soon what troubles you, William. Perhaps when we retire.”

  He nodded at her. “I wondered whether to tell you when we walked out this afternoon, but I think it is better to wait until we cannot be disturbed.”

  She tightened her grasp around his hand. “Does it mean we will have to be parted?”

  “No!” He shook his head. “Never. We will never be parted.”

  “Then nothing can possibly be too bad.” His smile warmed her.

  Soon enough, they were ascending the stairs to another chamber. Elizabeth began to wish they weren’t taking a tour and could settle soon at Pemberley. Some unexpressed feeling deep within her told her it would be better for them both.

  But this inn was well-appointed and comfortable. She smiled as she gazed from the window into the darkness of the countryside, a few candles lighting the windows of the shops and houses opposite.

  When he knocked softly on her door to join her, she extended her hand.

  “William.”

  He joined her and she leaned against him, marvelling that she was now permitted to enjoy the warmth and closeness of married life.

  “Dearest Elizabeth,” he murmured, drawing her close. “Are you warm enough?”

  She nodded. How had she been so fortunate as to win his affections? “I am, thank you.” She threaded her fingers through his. “Although I know you are anxious about telling me something.” She turned into his embrace, feeling his reluctance.

  “It’s difficult to talk about, but Mr. Owen told me I ought no longer to try and deal with the issue alone, that marriage means I ought to share my concerns.”

  “As you said, he is a remarkable man,” Elizabeth ventured, looking up at him. “Remember I love you. Nothing you can say will ever change it.”

  She lifted her face to his. “I’ve known you as Mr. Stoke, as Mr. Darcy, and as a man who was forced to learn that his past was not what he knew. You’re a courageous man, William. But some things need to be shared.”

  She laughed. “I will be brazen. Come to bed and extinguish the candle. Some things are easier to speak into darkness.”

  His chuckle warmed her, and his grasp tightened. “I love you, Elizabeth, and I never wish to hurt you.”

  He took her hand and assisted her into bed, and she watched lovingly as he placed his robe over the back of the chair and extinguished the candle. As he climbed in be
side her, she pressed herself against him.

  “Closer, William. We can share the warmth of the warming pans.”

  He laughed, the tension easing, and they lay, happily entwined. His lips met hers, but she allowed merely a moment before drawing back slightly.

  “Now, it is time to tell me. Afterwards, you will be easier in your mind.”

  He rolled over, to lie on his back, suddenly detached. But Elizabeth wasn’t about to allow it. She eased herself closer, put her arm over him, and laid her head on his chest, hearing and feeling the steady pounding of his heart. For a few moments she enjoyed the sensation. “All right. Tell me now.”

  He shrugged slightly. “It is nothing, really, Elizabeth. I only asked Owen because I didn’t want you to be distressed if it happened again.” He looked at her in the darkness.

  “All the years I can remember, I have had nightmares about what has happened. First about the instant of memory of my injury, and then when I was fearful for you when Wickham took you. Lately, I have been afraid of the disapproval of the family, and not being able to win your hand.”

  Elizabeth raised her hand to his face and drew him towards her and touched her mouth to his. “And you wanted to ask Mr. Owen if these nightmares might cease now?”

  He nodded under her hand. “You have the truth of it.”

  She waited quietly, and eventually he stirred. “I was concerned if it did happen again, you might be discomposed. But it is nothing. I am used to it.”

  She couldn’t prevent herself rippling into laughter, and he raised himself on one elbow, as if he was struggling to see her features through the darkness.

  She reached for him. “I knew it was something like that, William. On some days you looked so tired, as if you hadn’t slept — and then, last night —” she stopped at his sudden start.

  “What happened last night, Elizabeth? I don’t recall anything.”