by Brenda Webb
In his dream, he had just decided to join Elizabeth in the garden when the sounds of a servant shutting the dressing room door penetrated William’s awareness. Awakened, he became immediately alert, and the reality of what had occurred between Elizabeth and himself that night came rushing back.
She loved him… truly loved him and had vowed to wait until he was free! Confident that he could endure anything as long as he knew that she waited at the end of the tribulation, he rolled over and reached out to find her gone. Disappointment engulfed him, and he closed his eyes in a bid to relive the ecstasy of their short time together last night.
Elizabeth had completed the task of stitching his wound closed, uttering not a word as her needle moved in and out. He had kept his eyes closed at her request and had barely felt the shift of the bed as she slid to her feet, alerting him that she was finished. Opening his eyes, they acclimated to the dim light, and he noted that she stood at the French doors leading to the terrace. Her hair was dishevelled and reminded him of their first encounter at the bookshop. He could not tell if she was crying, though her head was down and her hands covered her face. Instantly he was standing behind her, clasping both trembling forearms as he pulled her back against his body.
“Elizabeth,” he breathed into her hair as he rested his head atop hers. “You are shaking like a leaf. What is the matter, sweetheart?”
Only a strangled sob escaped her throat with her first attempt to speak, but afterward, she was able to say, “I… I was so scared.”
“My brave, brave darling,” he soothed, kissing the top of her head.
She began to cry as she continued. “It has all been so… draining and so frightening. To learn that you are married… that Wilkens is a madman… to watch as poor Georgiana was almost—” She faltered, swallowing with great difficulty and shaking her head as though that would help to remove the large lump in her throat. At last she whispered hoarsely, “When I saw that you were hurt…”
Instantly, William turned her to face him, pulling her into his embrace. Her head came to rest against the hard musculature of his chest as two small hands slid around to clasp his back. And as her fingertips gripped tighter, striving to pull him closer, he silently repeated his vow to protect her even as his body betrayed his best intentions.
“Shhh, sweetheart, say no more. I should never have involved you in the insanity that is my life. You do not deserve what has befallen you, what will befall you because of me.”
She looked up to him. “Please do not think I regret loving you. That is the only thing that makes sense to me in all of this. You cannot help that you were trapped in a loveless marriage or that Providence put us together that night in the cabin. It is only.”
“Only?”
“I came to London to prove my sister wrong, but I fear that I have only proved her right. I bragged to Jane that we would find decent men to marry in London, if only we made an effort. But it is plain that only a madman like Wilkens would settle for a girl with no dowry or connections.” Her voice dropped, along with her eyes. “Would you have even cared for me if you had not been trapped in a marriage with a woman you despise?”
William cupped her face, lifting it tenderly so that their eyes met and held. “I am certain of only one thing, Elizabeth. I would have loved you the moment we met, just as I did when I found you at the bookstore. I pray that I would have had the good sense to recognise how precious that love is and to pursue it.”
“Tell me about her—about Gisela,” she pleaded timidly. “I saw her once at a ball in London. It was evident that she had been drinking, and she was with…” her voice trailed off.
“Another man?” William asked. Elizabeth nodded silently.
“Her liaisons are well known to me. I am aware that my aunt told you that she trapped me into marriage and then blackmailed me with my mother’s letters to stay in the union. It began when she tried to entice me into an affair, and when I declined, she decided to seduce my father.”
“I do not know the particulars of that situation.”
“She told me later that she decided that if she could not have me, she would ruin the Darcy name. My father was a means to an end, though he was more than happy to be used, I fear. Afterward, she claimed to be carrying his child and threatened to tell my mother if I did not marry her. She was aware that the news could likely hasten Mother’s death, but she did not care.”
“So you married her to keep the secret, and once you realised she was not going to have a child—”
mother’s writing. It alluded to the fact that Georgiana is not a Darcy. My poor sister was so devastated when our parents died, that I feared for her sanity if anything of that nature became public then.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Poor Georgiana. Do you think it true?”
“I have concluded that it is quite possibly true. My father neglected my mother for years, keeping to his friendships in London. The truth came out when I was called to Gisela’s townhouse to collect him after he had an ailment with his heart. I condemned his despicable behaviour, and he blamed his actions on the fact that my mother’s health prohibited another child. I saw that as no excuse for his infidelity to my mother.”
“Your aunt has said that the basis for the extortion will no longer exist in a short while. What is to happen that will make Gisela’s threats of no use?”
“I will admit that, at the onset, I sought only to shield Georgiana from more hurt. Then others—Richard, Aunt Audrey, Lord Landingham—convinced me that she deserved to know the truth of her parentage. I wanted to wait until she was older, but she has matured tremendously under Aunt Audrey’s care. I truly believe she will be able to bear it now. After all, she is my mother’s child, my sister, and forever a Darcy as far as I am concerned.”
Elizabeth wore a pensive expression.
“I sense there is more you wish to know. Ask me.”
“Even in her present state, Gisela is still quite beautiful, while I am only—”
“Never say that!” William interrupted emphatically. “From first glimpse, I found you to be enchantingly beautiful, Elizabeth. And I never thought Gisela remotely handsome. She never held any sway over my emotions, nor have I ever desired her as I do you.”
Satisfied, she whispered, “I love you so.”
A quick flame began in his core as he inspected her eyes. Finding the love that he had always desired gazing back, he whispered, “I love you with all my heart and my soul.”
Elizabeth laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes. “Then let me stay with you a while. Hold me just as you did that night at the cabin.”
“I would hold you forever were it possible, but you know that you should not be found in my rooms.”
“I shall not stay long,” she pleaded, her voice catching with emotion as she added, “Please.”
Swooping Elizabeth off her feet effortlessly, William carried her to the bed and laid her atop the counterpane, quickly taking his place beside her. She turned to snuggle into him, which sent a delicious throng of sensations coursing through his body and surged into his manhood.
He responded by brushing kisses against her temple. “This may not be wise, darling. I fear that my desires could—”
She turned her head to him, and his words were halted by soft lips pressing against his. Further resistance was futile as months of pent-up longing and desire came rushing in, and he surrendered to the yearning to love her. And as their kisses became endless, intensifying and growing more demanding, he was barely aware that he had undone the fastenings of her nightclothes and was now pushing the silky material aside to cup her breast. A low moan escaped her throat, only adding fuel to the fire. No longer capable of halting the hardness that was his body’s response, William rolled over, trapping her beneath him. The ecstasy of body against body was so immeasurable that he began to move slowly against her with a rhythm as old as time.
Caught up in their passion, Elizabeth tried to pull him even closer, her nails burrowing into the tann
ed skin of his back as he feathered kisses down her neck, across her collarbone and down to the softness of her bosom. He kissed the very top of one perfect breast and was just about to capture the hard centre in his mouth when Elizabeth murmured again breathlessly, “I love you.” William instantly became aware of what he was doing. Rolling over to his back, he groaned in anguish, uttering an oath under his breath.
Elizabeth looked puzzled by his actions. “Are… are you angry?”
Still trying to recover his self-control, he rolled back to face her. Propping upon one elbow, he began to right her clothes, saying softly, “I am angry at myself, not you, sweetheart.”
Nonetheless, Elizabeth’s expression showed uncertainty, so he leaned down to kiss her as tenderly as possible before raising his head to meet her gaze. “I should never have allowed myself to go so far. Though I desire to make you my own, I must wait until I can honourably do so.”
Her dark eyes seemed to become even darker as she studied him solemnly. Gently stroking her face with his fingertips, he continued, “Otherwise, you could be disgraced, and your father would run me through, and rightly so.”
Her expression changed to one of mortification. “I am sorry. Just because I love you is no excuse to—”
A quick kiss on her lips halted her words. “Never apologise for loving me, Elizabeth. I am a very fortunate man that you have a passionate nature. But you are an innocent, and it falls to me to protect you. I was the one at fault, not you. Forgive me for forgetting myself. I shall endeavour never to let it happen again— until.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile. “Until you are my wife.”
“I fear that I shall be no help to you meanwhile,” Elizabeth confessed. “I find that I love you so dearly that I can be persuaded to whatever you wish the moment your lips meet mine.”
William pulled her into a tight embrace, and very much aware of the promise he had just made, he chuckled as he offered a ragged plea. “Please do not remind me again of that, my love. God knows it is hard enough to resist you as it is.”
Then, again propping on one elbow, he began to work the signet ring off his little finger. Once it was free, he slid it onto each of Elizabeth’s fingers until he ascertained that it would best fit her middle finger, though it was still a loose fit. As they both studied the ring on her hand, he declared resolutely, “You are precious to me, Elizabeth Bennet, and until I can put a proper wedding ring on your finger, I want you to keep this as a symbol of my pledge to you. I have not removed it since my father presented it to me at the age of one and twenty. Now, whenever I notice it is missing, I will smile, for I will know exactly where it is. It will be with you—along with my heart.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth murmured, pulling his lips down to meet hers. When she had kissed him thoroughly, she added, “Since, I cannot continue to wear it on my finger, I shall keep it on a chain, so that it rests over my heart.”
“Then I shall envy it, my love,” he responded, placing one last kiss on her perfect mouth. Then reaching for a blanket that was folded at the end of the bed, he covered her. “Now, let me hold you. After tomorrow, I have no idea when we shall see each other again.”
Elizabeth said nothing when he pulled her into his embrace, her back resting against his chest, as she was already pondering his last words. Would they be able to see each other once they were in London? And just what would her Aunt Gardiner say when she learned that she had fled the Wilkens estate with Lady Ashcroft? Only God knew what her mother would do when she was informed. Would she be forced to entertain the attentions of another man like Wilkens?
She sighed. If I ponder these things tonight, I shall go mad! No, I refuse to ruin these precious moments with Fitzwilliam by fearing the future. I shall think only of our love for one another.
Immediately, her mind skipped to the feelings that he had awakened in her mere moments before. She could not help but blush at the memory, though no one was about to see. From all the horrors that mother and Aunt Gardiner told me of the wedding night, I have dreaded it so, but surely our marriage bed will be nothing to fear if it is anything like tonight.
While she relived all that they had shared, Elizabeth discerned the moment that Fitzwilliam fell into a deep sleep as his warm breath against her neck began a steady pattern, and his arms relaxed slightly. It felt so right that, intending to relish this heaven only a short while longer, she inadvertently drifted off to sleep beside him.
~~~*~~~
Dawn
Ashcroft Park
Other than a few servants, Lady Ashcroft had the house to herself the next morning, since all her guests were still asleep. She was quite content to be alone, as she had wished for some time to ponder the fact that the sorrow she had associated with her home since Joseph’s death had slowly begun to diminish. That she had reached a turning place in her life was undeniable, and she wished to share it with the one who had dwelt in her thoughts almost every day since he was taken from her.
Reaching the long hallway that served as the portrait gallery, she walked swiftly to pause in front of Joseph’s portrait. Though tears filled her eyes, she could not help but smile at the dear face that looked down on her. Never one to dwell on sadness, her husband would not have been pleased that she had shut herself off for so many years—first unwilling to accept the loss of him and their son, then reluctant to expose her vulnerable heart. She had been mistaken, that she would freely admit, but she was unable to change until she met Marshall Landingham. After they became better acquainted, the void in her life became evident, and following his brush with death, she realised just how very much she wanted to be his wife. All of these thoughts ran through her consciousness as she examined Joseph’s likeness and began to speak from her heart.
My darling Joseph, you have always been my ideal. She smiled lovingly. Maybe even a bit too perfect, for few have compared favourably to you over the years. But I want you to know that I have met someone that I love and admire in the same manner that I loved and admired you. Thank you, my love, for showing me what constitutes a real man. I shall always cherish what we had, and you shall always hold a special place in my heart. I know you would have wanted me to be happy, and that knowledge is what allows me to take the next step. I am going to marry Marshall Landingham sometime in the next few months.
A sound brought her attention to the end of the hall where a maid was entering a room. Turning back to his portrait, Audrey took one last long look at Joseph before heading towards the foyer. She hoped to find Mr. Parker below stairs and to enquire about her nephew.
When at last she descended the grand staircase, she spied that gentleman coming out of the dining room, and it seemed to her that he tried to hurry in the opposite direction.
“Mr. Parker?” she called out, halting the man’s progress. He slowly turned to face her. “I wish to know if you encountered my nephew when he returned last evening. Was he out all night, or did he get some sleep?”
“Milady, I… I did see Mr. Darcy,” he stuttered, looking sheepish. “He did not return until the early morning hours, I am afraid.”
“I was fearful of that. I shall advise all my guests that we shall postpone our return to London until later this morning. That will allow Fitzwilliam some extra hours to rest before we depart.”
Parker seemed to be looking in every direction but at her, and Lady Ashcroft became suspicious. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”
There was an audible sigh. “There is, Milady.” He glanced up, meeting her eye. “And I must apologise for not informing you last night.”
Lady Ashcroft motioned towards an open door. “Come. Let us go into the parlour.”
It took only a few seconds for them to enter the room and the door to close. It took only a few more for the door to fly open and the Mistress to rush out. Though she had not displayed any anger towards Mr. Parker—after all, he could not force her nephew do anything—Audrey Ashcroft was greatly disappointed that she had not been informed last nig
ht of what had happened. Her position was that it was inexcusable that her nephew had been injured and she had not been told. Marching purposefully to the family quarters, in short order she stood outside Fitzwilliam’s bedroom, though as she lifted her hand to knock, something bid her pause. After all, by Parker’s account, her nephew had very little sleep, and she was about to wake him. Deciding on another means of seeing to his welfare, she turned and went in search of Mrs. Parker.
Finding the housekeeper in her office, Lady Ashcroft attempted to regain her composure as she addressed the woman. “Mrs. Parker, may I have the master keys? I wish to check on my nephew, as I understand from Mr. Parker that he was injured while at the stables last night. I do not wish to wake him, however, if he is still asleep.”
Mrs. Parker, who had not yet spoken to her husband that morning, stood immediately, beginning to search through a pocket in her gown. “Oh dear me! Of course, madam. Rufus was already on duty when I awoke, so I have not so much as heard of any injury. I pray Mr. Darcy is well.”
She found the small key she was looking for and proceeded to unlock the top drawer of her desk. Reaching inside, she pulled out a large ring with a number of keys and handed them to Lady Ashcroft.
“Do you wish me to accompany you?”
“No, thank you. It cannot be too serious, or I would have been awakened,” she replied with more certainly than she felt. “I just want to be sure that all is well. I shall return these shortly.”
Very soon she was at the dressing room door that adjoined Fitzwilliam’s bedroom. Her plan was to sneak into his room through the adjoining room, and if he appeared to be well, to depart. His appearance would determine whether she awoke him for examination. Looking both ways down the hall and seeing no one, she opened the door and stepped inside. There were no candles lit, and it was still early, so the room was dark. Carefully she tiptoed to the door that led into his bedroom, and a slight twinge of guilt came over her at the realisation that she was invading his privacy. Pushing that emotion aside, she opened it and was relieved to learn that a small candle glowed somewhere inside. Stealthily she moved towards the bed until the sight that greeted her caused her heart to skip a beat, one hand flying involuntarily to her chest.
