Undoing

by L. L. Diamond

  The carriage stopped in front of Worth House, and they alighted once the door was opened and the step placed. Upon entering the hall, a whirl of golden-brown curls rushed from the drawing room and hurdled into Elizabeth’s arms. “Lizzy! I am so glad you have finally come!”

  “Georgiana!” Elizabeth laughed and drew the girl back by her shoulders. “What a wonderful surprise. I did not expect you this evening.”

  “Thomas invited Fitzwilliam and me for dinner. Did you not know?”

  Elizabeth handed off her pelisse to a waiting maid. “No, my husband has kept a number of secrets from me, it seems.” She turned as Thomas and Fitzwilliam emerged from the drawing room. “What of the menu?” She fought to keep her eyes on her husband and not stare longingly at Fitzwilliam. They had not been together in so long.

  “I am certain Mrs. Grigg did a laudable job.” He put a hand to Fitzwilliam’s shoulder. “Fitzwilliam Darcy, Georgiana Darcy,” he said, gesturing to them both. “Allow me to introduce Elizabeth’s aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, and her sister, Miss Jane Bennet.” They curtseyed while the gentlemen bowed.

  “Are you the aunt from Derbyshire?” asked Fitzwilliam.

  Aunt Gardiner smiled and dipped her chin. “I am. I must thank you for helping Lizzy when she visited Pemberley. She wrote to me of meeting my friends and seeing my favourite places. I was overjoyed she could have the tour I would have wished for her.”

  “Georgiana and I enjoyed the excursions; I assure you.”

  Her aunt’s smile dimmed, and she clasped her hands before her. “Allow me to say how sorry I was to hear of your father. He was an excellent man.”

  “Thank you,” Fitzwilliam nodded and blinked rapidly. He would wear dark colours and the black armband for a year, but it would take longer for his father’s death not to smart.

  Her aunt turned and kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “I am afraid I must be going. My children will be missing me, and my husband should soon be home.” She curtseyed to Thomas and the Darcys. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  After they returned the farewell, Aunt Gardiner hurried back to the carriage, which waited at the kerb to return her to Gracechurch street.

  “Come,” said Elizabeth to Georgiana. “You must tell me all you have learnt from these London masters. Remember that I never had the luxury. I am envious indeed.”

  “I provided a piano master last season.” Thomas’s dry tone did not escape her notice.

  “Yes, but only briefly, and dear Georgiana also has a cello master.”

  “And drawing,” said Georgiana. “Though I am not very accomplished at drawing.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes caught Fitzwilliam’s, and she passed in front of him with an extra bit of sway to her hips. “Your brother will need to find employment of his own if he hires too many masters.”

  His warm laugh from behind filled that hole that had been ever-present since she departed Pemberley. The problem was it would reappear as soon as he departed at the end of the evening.

  Georgiana giggled and pressed her elbow into Elizabeth’s side. “You do enjoy teasing my brother.”

  Elizabeth nudged her back. “And you. I have teased you often enough. I do confess your brother enjoys such a stern façade, that I take great pleasure in making him smile.”

  A light laugh came from Jane. “My sister has always been thus.” She glanced down to her gown. “Should we not change for dinner?”

  “We should,” said Elizabeth.

  Everyone paused just inside the door to the drawing room, and Thomas glanced at the clock. “We have enough time before the meal is served if you would be more comfortable, though we are a small family party. It is hardly necessary.”

  “I believe I would prefer it.” Jane looked to Elizabeth. “Would you mind terribly?”

  “No, as I would care to refresh myself.” She turned to their company. “Pray, excuse us for a moment. We shall return soon.”

  Elizabeth and Jane curtseyed and hurried upstairs where Lalande made quick work of cleaning up Elizabeth and readying her for dinner. Upon her return to the drawing room, she strode straight to the couch to sit beside Georgiana. “Now tell me what you have learnt.” To which, the girl had no difficulty in recounting the lessons she had partaken of since coming to London.

  Almost ten minutes later, Jane arrived at the same time Mrs. Grigg entered to announce dinner was served. While they dined, Georgiana regaled them with tales of Evie and her bravery with the swans at the Serpentine. They further discussed her studies and what she currently practised on the pianoforte.

  The main object for Elizabeth was to avoid Fitzwilliam as much as possible. She could not discount Jane’s knowledge of her disposition. If she paid Fitzwilliam too much attention, Jane would recognise more than they should reveal. However, the exercise in restraint was not an easy one. By the end of dinner, her skin almost strangled her while she fought to keep control over her emotions.

  As usual, the men departed for Thomas’s study for brandy while the ladies adjourned to the withdrawing room. Jane sat near Georgiana, but not accustomed to the grandeur of a duke’s home, folded her hands in her lap. “My sister tells me you are very accomplished at the pianoforte. I hope you will play for us.”

  Georgiana peered at Elizabeth, who nodded. “’Tis only Jane. She will think it lovely no matter your mistakes. She claims Mary plays her ponderous etudes well.”

  “Lizzy!”

  “You do.”

  “Your Grace?”

  When Elizabeth turned, Mr. Hughes stood in the door. “I beg your pardon for interrupting, but the duke wishes you to join him in his study.”

  “Does he request your presence for brandy often?” asked Jane, her voice a mite high.

  “No, tonight is the first time he has sent for me. I cannot credit the request, actually.” She stood and smoothed her gown. “I should see what he needs. Do not let Georgiana become shy. As you saw earlier, she is not so reserved once she is comfortable—a trait both Darcys share, by the way.”

  “You have my word.”

  “Miss Bennet has been very kind.” Georgiana spoke primly with her fingers fidgeting in the folds of her skirt. “I am certain we shall get along well.”

  Elizabeth passed through the corridor to her husband’s study and knocked.

  “Yes,” he said loudly.

  She stepped inside her husband’s refuge, which was lined with shelves of books and possessed a large portrait of his mother over the fireplace. Finally, she gave herself free rein to look unreservedly at Fitzwilliam, drinking him in as if she had not laid eyes on him in years. He looked fit and well. She could not ask for more. “You sent for me?”

  Thomas stood with a smile. “I thought you and Fitzwilliam would like a moment or two alone. I have noticed you take more care to be circumspect with Jane than with Georgiana.”

  Her eyes held fast to Fitzwilliam’s. He was not offended, was he? “Jane would more readily recognise my feelings. I must be more careful—especially now. I trust my sister not to speak of it, yet I do fear her censure. I cannot bear to have her think poorly of me.” Her hands clenched and wrung at one another. “I hope you were not offended.”

  “No.” Fitzwilliam stepped closer and flexed and released his hand as though he itched to touch her too. “I suspected your reasoning. Do not make yourself uneasy.”

  “You have ten minutes,” said Thomas. “I believe if you take too much time away from Jane and Georgiana they may ask too many questions.” Thomas walked towards a door that connected to the library. “I shall knock softly before I return.”

  When the door closed behind him, she rushed into Fitzwilliam’s arms. He held her close and kissed her hair twice before drawing back, cradling her face in his hands. “You are with child.”

  “How does everyone know by simply looking at me? Jane, my aunt, Lady Matlock, and now you have all guessed.” She put her hands over the small swell that was still concealed by her gown. “The babe has not even quickened, so I
cannot be sure. The midwife believes it is so.”

  His fingers caressed her cheeks and her neck until his palms rested on her shoulders. “At Pemberley, then?”

  “Yes, I had my courses between your visit to Worthstone and ours to Pemberley. Do I truly appear so very different? My aunt and yours are not as surprising since they are familiar with the condition, but Jane recognised it from when Mama carried Lydia.”

  “Have they said how they knew?”

  She nodded and sighed. “My face is fuller.”

  He nodded while his fingers trailed another line down her cheek. “Your breasts are also larger.”

  He pressed a kiss to the top of each globe, making her smile and roll her eyes. “You noticed what Thomas did not.”

  That low chuckle she adored rumbled from his chest before he kissed her lips softly. “He has little interest in them whereas I am quite fond of them.” He drew her to the sofa where he sat and pulled her gown taut across her stomach. “You are also rounder here.” His forehead pressed just above the slight bulge before he kissed it. A shuddering breath came from him. “I knew this could happen. I also knew it would be painful to watch you bear a child I could never claim. Yet, a part of me is satisfied you will have a part of me and my heart inside of you. Is that nonsensical?”

  “No, I have wished I could provide you with some irreplaceable part of myself.”

  His eyes were shiny when he looked up. “You have, when you gave me your body. ’Tis a gift I shall never forget.”

  “But you cannot carry it with you.”

  “Perhaps a lock of your hair? I shall not attempt to cut one myself. I do not want to risk your abigail’s wrath, but if she could—”

  “Of course.”

  He drew her onto his lap and wrapped her in his arms—those arms where she belonged, where her soul calmed. He kissed her long and softly, his tongue languidly touching hers as their lips melded together.

  “How I want you to love me,” she said in that breathy voice that always appeared after they kissed.

  “I would not want to harm you or the babe.”

  His hand covered their child, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. “You could never harm us.”

  “There is also little time for me to love you as you deserve.” His hand slipped under her skirts to where their babe rested inside her. He leaned down and kissed near her navel. “Be kind to your Mama. I love her just as much as I love you.”

  “Thomas will make me depart London once the babe quickens.” She fought the tears that burned her eyes, making her voice crack.

  “I am loath to part from you, but I agree with him.” He removed his hand from her skirts and placed his palm back on their babe while his thumb caressed it through her gown. “There is too much disease here. I also would not want you harmed by James when he discovers your condition.”

  Her hand covered his as her stomach clenched. Could she truly be in danger? “Do you think it likely?”

  “He owes more than he can repay on his current income. He may become desperate. After the issue with his heart, Thomas has revised his will out of concern over the possibility, replacing my father who was his executor. That duty now falls to me, which makes me guardian of any children upon Thomas’s death.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “I do not want to think of James in that manner. If I consider the situation too much, I would never cease fearing for myself and this child.”

  “Do not fret. No matter the circumstances, know I shall do everything in my power to protect the both of you.”

  She kissed his temple. “I know. He is fortunate to have both you and Thomas looking after his well-being.”

  The light knock came from the door, and Elizabeth kissed Fitzwilliam once more before she dragged herself from his lap. She had no desire to remove herself, yet she was not comfortable in such an intimate position in front of Thomas since he was by law and the church her husband; however, she did retain hold of Fitzwilliam’s hand.

  Thomas entered a moment later and smiled. “I trust you had a good visit. Did Fitzwilliam tell you of my visit to my solicitors?”

  “Of your will?”

  “Yes. I believe James too much of a drunkard to attempt to harm you or the child, but I am taking no chances.”

  Fitzwilliam brushed his lips against the hand he held. “You should return before your sister and mine seek you out.”

  After one last caress of her fingers down his dear face, she fought every urge in her body to remain and let propriety and society be damned and walked through the door. Her heart bled with every step that took her further from her beloved.

  Chapter 15

  Elizabeth held her skirts out of the dirt as she alighted the carriage and entered the large building belonging to the British Institution. Before leaving London last Season, she had accompanied Lady Vranes to an exhibition at the Royal Academy, though Laura had indicated on several occasions how much she preferred the winter exhibition at the British Institution since they carried more contemporary art rather than the old masters the Pall Mall location featured in the summer.

  “I am pleased you could join me today,” said Lady Vranes, who walked beside her. “I enjoy your society much more than others, and you always have such interesting reasons for liking a painting when I do not. I am only sorry your sister could not join you.”

  “My aunt was unwell this morning and sent a note requesting Jane’s aid. My sister is too good to say no.”

  Lady Vranes regarded Elizabeth with her head tilted a fraction. “The two of you are not so dissimilar then. You would do the same, would you not?”

  “I would, though Jane is much more gracious about it.”

  When they entered the first room, Elizabeth surveyed the myriad of paintings hanging on the wall. The works littered every surface and contained such varied subjects: everything from portraits, to histories, to landscapes, to still life all on display for a viewer’s perusal.

  She followed her friend to the first painting, a landscape by a man named Turner. Elizabeth studied the sweeping brush strokes and the play of light and colours on the canvas before her. The sky glowed with the rising sun. She was tracing the edge of one of the clouds when a gentle fluttering in her belly made her stop and place her palm against the swell. She held her breath as she stood stock still waiting. Would it happen again? Her heartbeat echoed frantically in her ears. Was that really what she thought it was?

  “Lizzy? Are you well?”

  She turned to Lady Vranes who watched her instead of the work in front of them. “Yes, I believe the child moved. I felt a slight flutter—really a trifle of a thing.”

  Her friend smiled and looped her arm through Elizabeth’s. “That does explain your inattention. I asked what you thought of the painting, and you merely stared at your hand.”

  “Forgive me.”

  “No need for that. I am certain I would be much the same if it were me. We have never been blessed, but I shall say that if you want him to move again, maybe you should not bestow all of your attention on the possibility. What is that American proverb I once heard? A watched pot never boils?”

  Elizabeth let one side of her lips curve. “I like that.” She turned her eyes back to the painting and allowed the scene of fishermen attending their catch on the shore while several large ships loomed in the background settle in her mind. As she had first noted, the setting sun certainly captured the eye—particularly the colours and the way the sunlight seemed to diffuse through the clouds.

  She pointed to one of the larger vessels. “That is a warship, is it not? I have only seen illustrations before.”

  “I believe so. I believe the other is a prison hulk.”

  Elizabeth laughed and looked at her friend. “Laura, how would you recognise a prison hulk?”

  With a roll of her eyes and an elbow to Elizabeth’s ribs, Lady Vranes huffed. “Because we sailed from London when we travelled to France before the upheaval. During our departure from the harbou
r, my husband told me of the different ships. His brother was in the navy, and my husband took an active interest in the vessels for that reason.”

  “You must have been quite young.”

  “I was seventeen and newly married. We travelled to Paris and then Italy.”

  How fortunate to have the ability to see those foreign places! “How long did your journey take?”

  “We were gone a year complete.”

  A sigh came from Elizabeth’s lips as she turned back to the painting. “I would dearly love to travel. Maybe someday.”

  “His Grace certainly has the means,” said Laura before she peered at Elizabeth’s mid-section. “Though I doubt you will be having any grand adventures for the rest of this year.”

  She glanced down at her palm still resting on her belly. “No, I shall return to Worthstone where I shall remain until my confinement. Perhaps we shall return next season. I suspect our plans will depend on my husband’s health and whether we wish to travel with a babe.” She would miss Lady Vranes and a few of the diversions of London, yet she would prefer to remain in the country with her child.

  Elizabeth pointed to the painting. “Do you think he refers to the war?”

  “Very likely,” said Lady Vranes. “I do like how he captures the light and how it disperses in the mist.”

  “I do too.”

  With a tug on her arm, her friend pulled her to the next painting. “Come, I must decide what I wish to purchase.”

  “Do you have a place to display it?” asked Elizabeth with a ridiculously girlish giggle. Every wall in Lady Vranes’s home bore the paintings the family had collected for generations.

  Lady Vranes cocked her head over her shoulder. “Do I require one?”

  The two dissolved into laughter while they shifted through those around them who stared at their happiness. Why could people not enjoy themselves? Such a ludicrous notion.

  When they stopped in front of the next painting, that flutter returned for another brief moment. She bit her lip to prevent a gasp. He was truly there, inside her—a joined part of Fitzwilliam and her.