Undoing

by L. L. Diamond

  Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and tried desperately to concentrate on what was before him. Elizabeth safe and sound. “Where is Alexander now?”

  “He is with Lalande, napping.”

  His eyes opened and took in every inch of her beloved face. “What of the woman you hired?”

  “I do not suspect her of even having a passing acquaintance with James, but Nicholas had concerns over the timing of her hiring. She is with her ill mother, though I am still paying her wages.”

  “’Tis a good idea. I noticed Jonathan and Matthew here as well. Did you send for them?” The last was directed at Nicholas, who nodded.

  “I remembered Colin’s advice from that morning we departed Worthstone,” said Nicholas. “They also moved the cot for Alexander into the bedchamber in the other wing.”

  “Lalande has also always insisted on cleaning and caring for my bedchamber herself, so there has been no change. Jonathan and Matthew are stationed outside of the doors to my old rooms to give the rest of the servants the impression I still reside there.”

  “Where is Mrs. Nicholls putting me?”

  Nicholas laughed and leaned on the desk. “I knew you would desire to remain close to Lizzy, so you are in the adjoining bedchamber to hers. Pray remember you have months before you can wed. We simply could not overlook your ability to protect them during the night. I dearly hope I am overreacting, but I do not believe I am. They arrived four days ago, and Richard has visited daily. He asked about bringing James yesterday, so I do expect them this afternoon.”

  “What do you do while Richard calls?” He searched her expression for any hint of disquiet—especially in her eyes. He could usually see so much in her eyes.

  “I spend time in my sitting room with Alexander, or I pen letters to your aunt or Laura. At the risk of sounding like Lydia, ’tis excessively dull.”

  He could not help but smile when that one eyebrow lifted and the wry grin he adored appeared on her face. Lord, he had longed for her since he had left after Twelfth night! The days dragged by while he attended to business or went to his club. He did manage to assiduously avoid balls and dinners—except when his aunt had insisted.

  Lady Matlock had ceased her talk of him marrying, which was an improvement, but the ladies she invited did not know he held no interest. Thankfully, his aunt had taken to helping him escape the unwanted prattle of those ladies while still attempting to pry the identity of his potential intended from him. He had given nothing away, simply informing her that she would not be disappointed.

  “I am certain no duller than London without you.”

  “You are such a flatterer, Mr. Darcy,” she said with a slight smile.

  “I think it is time I found Jane.” Carlisle stood and departed the study without looking back.

  As soon as the door closed, Fitzwilliam tugged her into his arms. “Forgive me if I overstep. When Carlisle said Richard and James in the same sentence, I thought I might explode. I cannot think of you in the same room with either of them. The idea makes me want to whisk you to Pemberley.”

  “I do wish the year was up, and we could.”

  The longing tone made him hold her closer. “We have but four months.”

  “Why does it seem a lifetime?”

  His lips pressed against her hair. He dared not kiss her on the lips or he would not know how to stop. He had stayed away because he did not trust himself. After so long a separation, he had a sore lack of control. As it was, he had no qualms about sneaking away during the night for Gretna Green. If they were wed, the threat James posed would not disappear, but it would be diminished to a certain extent. Yet, the problem remained of how desperate could James be? That alone would determine whether he was a true threat.

  “I should go tend to Alexander. He will wake soon.”

  “And I should like to speak to Carlisle. As soon as I am done, I shall refresh myself and rest from the journey. Would you mind if I knock on the door? I would like to see Alexander. I cannot imagine how he has changed.”

  She cupped his cheeks in her small, soft hands. “He is the dearest little boy. He giggles and gives kisses, though they are rather messy. He has grown so. I believe he will be as tall as you one day, despite my shorter influence.”

  He turned his face to kiss her palm. “I shall be up shortly.”

  After she slipped through the door to the library, he poked his head into the corridor where Jonathan stood. “Would you please find Lord Carlisle and tell him I wish to speak to him?”

  “Yes, sir.” The footman stepped closer. “What of Her Grace?” He spoke in quiet tones so as not to be overheard.

  “She departed through the library only a moment ago. She needed to care for her son. Matthew remained in the library, so he will ensure she makes it safely to her chambers.”

  Their thoroughness settled that part of his gut that had been roiling ever since he first stepped foot into the study. “Thank you for your diligence. Pray, thank Matthew as well.”

  “Sir,” said Jonathan with a quick bow. He hurried off, and no sooner had Fitzwilliam closed the door than Carlisle reopened it and stepped inside.

  Before Fitzwilliam could utter a word, Carlisle poured them both a large glass of brandy. “I saw Lizzy heading upstairs from the library. We need to talk.”

  “So this is not as cut and dried as you made it seem?”

  “When it comes to Richard, is it ever?” His cousin sighed and sank into a chair by the fireplace. “He brought James to Netherfield two days ago. James requested an audience with Lizzy.”

  “Did he?” Fitzwilliam took a sizeable gulp of his brandy and bared his teeth as he swallowed. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “Unfortunately, no. I can only assume he wants money.” He grimaced and sipped his own drink. “I have yet to tell Lizzy. I wanted you here before I did so. I do wonder if we should not eschew the mourning period and allow the two of you to wed. You could apply for a special license, and we can have the local vicar perform the ceremony in the drawing room. Because it has yet to be a year we would keep the ceremony private.”

  “What of London?” said Fitzwilliam. He wanted to burst from his skin. He expected he would have to wait until August to wed Elizabeth, but instead, he could have all he wanted now. He would prefer the motivation to be otherwise, yet he could not argue when he was to gain his most fervent desire.

  “What of it?” A crooked grin lit Carlisle’s sombre expression. “My mother can handle the ton. After a mere few days of calls, all of London will be speaking of the poor Duchess of Leeds, who was forced to marry due to a threat to her and her son. Men wed if they have children in need of a mother. Women of lesser status marry if they have nowhere to live. Why should this be any different?”

  Fitzwilliam stared into his glass, watching the fire reflect in the golden liquid. He would be required to propose to Elizabeth and request her father’s permission, but that could be done today. He would also need to ride back to London for the special license.

  “You want me to meet James on Lizzy’s behalf—as her husband.”

  “I do,” said Carlisle. “I know Lizzy would handle herself admirably, but I would prefer to keep her as far from him as possible. Your marriage would also keep her presence with you in the same suite from causing scandal.”

  “Until new fodder for the rumour mill presents itself.”

  “That is true.” Carlisle gave a tight chuckle. “At least to those who call themselves well-bred yet thrive on the trials of others.”

  Fitzwilliam threw back the last of his drink, wincing at the burn that scalded as it went down. “I need to speak to Lizzy, and I want to see Alexander. As long as she agrees, I shall ride to Longbourn and speak to Mr. Bennet.”

  “Thankfully, he returned from Reading and retrieving Lydia yesterday.”

  “A lucky coincidence indeed,” said Fitzwilliam. “In the meantime, I can take care of the license if you will set a time with the vicar. Your mother still has a connection to the archbi
shop, does she not?”

  “She does. You would do well to take her to Doctor’s Common. When she learns who you intend to wed, she will likely drive you herself.”

  With a laugh, Fitzwilliam looked into his now empty brandy. “I only require Lizzy’s consent.”

  “Do you truly believe she will say no?”

  “I promised to court her.” He rose and set his glass on the tray. “While I could never regret taking Elizabeth for my wife, I do want her happy.”

  Carlisle tipped his glass as if toasting. “I believe if you simply ask and seek her opinion, she will not refuse you. I daresay she has longed for you as much as you have longed for her. Lizzy might not display a morose countenance, but when she is sad, she is quiet—too quiet.”

  He could not help a small smile. “I do not doubt her feelings. At least this time, she will wed for love and not duty. In that, I hope she can be satisfied.”

  “You do not have cause for concern, cousin.” Carlisle waved him away. “Go, propose to your lady, but do let me know when you intend to depart. I shall accompany you to Longbourn in the event Mr. Bennet decides this is a laughing matter.”

  “Lord, I hope not.”

  Carlisle shrugged and stood, placing his glass with Fitzwilliam’s. “He is a bit eccentric; finds humour in the oddest of things. Legally, you have no need to request his permission, though I understand why you want to do so.”

  With a nod, Fitzwilliam opened the door. “Let me ask her first.” He departed the study, took the stairs two at a time, and strode down the corridor until he reached the rooms he had on his last visit. Bishop awaited him inside.

  He pulled away his topcoat and waistcoat to wash from the water his valet had already set out. When he was in clean breeches and a shirt, he dismissed Bishop and knocked on the door that connected his chamber to Elizabeth’s.

  Lalande smiled when she allowed him to enter. “’Tis good to see you, sir,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  She quickly excused herself as he turned and set eyes on Elizabeth in a pose he had not seen since Worthstone: reclined against pillows on the bed with Alexander at her breast.

  “He has not ceased to nurse yet?”

  “Oh, no.” She smiled down at him like a Madonna in a painting. “Cook prepares apples for him, and he eats bread and some potatoes, but he still loves to nurse.”

  As he stepped closer, Alexander released his mother’s nipple just long enough to smile before he began suckling again. Elizabeth had been correct when she had said he had grown. When he had last departed, Alexander could still be cradled in one arm, but now, Elizabeth held him in both, which, even curled, he filled.

  “You are too quiet.”

  He looked at her wide eyes watching him. “I am merely fascinated by how much he has changed.”

  “I know.” Her gaze returned to their son and softened. “He becomes less of a baby every day.” She removed an arm to pat the bed. “Sit and talk to me. I have missed you, and we so rarely have this opportunity. Tell me what you and Nicholas spoke of.”

  “I want to wait a moment to tell you of that.” He sat upon the bed, facing her, and slid closer until he touched her leg. “I need to ask you a question first.”

  Her head hitched back a bit. “A question? That sounds ominous.”

  He laughed and shifted his hand to the other side of her knees, so his arm straddled her, and he could look her directly in the eye. “I hope not.” He cleared his throat. Why was he suddenly shaky and full of nerves? “Elizabeth Bennet—”

  She arched that eyebrow he adored but remained blessedly silent.

  “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” he said quickly. He took a deep breath and exhaled while Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She had to know, which necessitated an extremely short pause else she would ask a question and he would never have the opportunity. “You must know that I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. While I may not have known it at the time, you struck me dumb with your beauty and your fine eyes. As much as I attempted to deny my feelings and keep my distance, all of my efforts were for naught. What began as a strong affection and friendship has grown deeper and more robust as time has passed. At this moment, I love you so strongly that I cannot imagine my life without you. In my heart, you have been my dearest friend, my lover, and my wife since that fateful night at Worthstone. I have never desired anything more than to have you as mine—by my side for the rest of our lives. I beg you to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife.”

  Alexander sat up and grinned at him, his two bottom teeth and two top teeth displayed prominently.

  “I believe our son is pleased with the idea. What of you?” He took Alexander and brought him to his shoulder while Elizabeth tucked her breast back in her stays and fastened the front of her gown.

  “As much as I want to be with you, what of my mourning period?”

  “You have observed most of it. I have known a few women who remarried earlier than they should have and did not suffer for it. We also have Lady Matlock and Lady Vranes to help us. A few well-placed whispers and calls would alleviate any worry.”

  A low laugh came from her chest, and she covered her mouth with her hands, letting them slide down until they paused on her chin. “Could it really be so simple?”

  “I wished to court you before your family and friends and treat you as you deserve—”

  “I was such a child that day. I beg you not to repeat what I said. Two years of frustration at my lack of control over my life and being a pawn of Thomas’s schemes were to blame. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it."

  “What did you say that I did not deserve? You deserve to be courted and have a proposal of marriage borne out of love. I let my wishes run away with my rational mind.” He kissed his son on the cheek, making the baby turn and place his chubby little hands on Fitzwilliam’s face. The next he knew, Alexander’s open mouth was over his while the babe said, “Ah!”

  Elizabeth burst into gales of laughter, Alexander began to giggle, and Fitzwilliam followed. After, she handed him a towel so he could wipe his face. “He has always been comfortable with you—as if he knows in some way that you are his papa.” She scraped her teeth along her bottom lip. Lord, he had to restrain himself when she did that. How did such a simple gesture undo him so easily?

  “Nicholas believes this to be the best solution?”

  “Our marriage might not eliminate whatever threat James poses, but as your husband, I can insist he deal with me.”

  “You could do that anyhow.”

  “I could, but I think this to be more effective.” He reached out and took her hand. “You must know I would wed you regardless.”

  She scooted forward and cradled his cheeks in her palms. “I do, and were I able, I would have married you the moment Thomas passed from this world. If circumstances allow us to forgo a certain amount of my mourning, then I would wish to do so.” She pressed her lips to his and inhaled as they lingered. When she drew back, her beautiful eyes were glassy and bright. “Yes, I would be honoured to marry you, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  Chapter 27

  In the end, marrying Elizabeth had been blessedly simple. Carlisle sent a note to Richard, saying Jane was unwell, to keep him from Netherfield for a few days while they arranged the wedding plans. Mr. Bennet, once he understood the love Fitzwilliam harboured for Elizabeth and the potential danger she and Alexander were presently in, gave his consent without question. How much the older gentleman realised, Fitzwilliam was uncertain, yet he did not care to elaborate on how long-standing his feelings were.

  The special license took no time at all, and the vicar, who had known Elizabeth since she was a small child, was more than willing to conduct the ceremony once they explained the necessity to forgo the final months of the mourning period. The worst part was the travel to and from London for the license.

  Now, as he stood in his bedchamber, Elizabeth fed Alexander in
hers. Tonight, Lalande was to sleep in Elizabeth’s bedchamber with the baby while Elizabeth joined Fitzwilliam for their first night as man and wife in his rooms.

  He took a deep breath in and blew it out lest he embarrass himself. Bishop had yet to depart, and to say that Fitzwilliam was an eager groom was a massive understatement. He walked over to the fireplace, resting both of his hands on the mantel and leaning into it. “Bishop, I do not require anything further this evening.”

  His valet surely started—not that Fitzwilliam was looking at him to know. He simply had never insisted his valet leave him before he had completed his task, so the sudden request was surely enough to make the man raise his eyebrows. Bishop had been his valet since he was sixteen. He could only be surprised.

  “Yes, sir.” Bishop, no doubt, bowed. He always bowed before departing. “Congratulations on your marriage. I am pleased you and Mrs. Darcy can finally be together as you ought.”

  “Thank you,” he said, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against his arm.

  The door closed behind him, and he gave up his attempts at self-regulation. Hopefully, Elizabeth would be more flattered than appalled at his state. After all, he could not help it. At times, parts of his body had a mind of their own.

  “Fitzwilliam?”

  Her sweet voice bid him to pivot quickly. She stood near their adjoining door, her hair in loose curls around her shoulders and a thin muslin gown that did nothing to hide her nipples straining against the fabric. A groan escaped, and she lifted one side of her lips.

  “Have you been thinking of me?”

  His fingers raked through his hair, clenching the longer locks in the back. “Do not tease me, Lizzy. I have not been able to truly touch you since before Alexander was born—nearly ten months. I fear I have very little control now the possibility of having you again presents itself.”

  “And I thought you appreciated me for my liveliness of mind.” She pressed her lips together, stifling a laugh.

  “You wicked woman,” he growled, lunging forward and pulling her into his arms. “I love you for the quickness of your mind and for your generous and kind heart. Those traits make you the most beautiful lady of my acquaintance.”