“No. Forgive me, my darling, I was unclear. Darcy has need to travel to London and, since Netherfield was on the way and I would be able to enjoy his company for more than a single day, he agreed to travel with me. His carriage will arrive in a few days to carry him on, but I hope he will join us frequently.” Bingley clapped a hand upon Darcy’s shoulder. “I know how you do dislike the ton’s society.”
“I hope you find it in your heart to forgive us, Mrs. Bingley. The decision was made, and action put in place with no thought of notifying you of my presence.” He bowed over her hand. “I fear it is a horrible habit of your husband’s bachelor days when his plans would change at a moment’s notice without thought to the consequences. I will be certain to remind him in the future to consult you if I am again present when he behaves so rashly.”
“It is no bother, Mr. Darcy. I am certain Nicholls will be able to ready a guest room for you in a reasonable time.” Mrs. Bingley took her husband’s arm and directed them toward the drawing-room. “Did Charles tell you my sister is staying with us? I am certain Elizabeth will be surprised to see you here.”
Ever looking for some clue regarding his love’s feelings, Darcy immediately wondered if his presence would be pleasant or distressing to Elizabeth. His steps hesitated and he considered begging a few minutes to refresh himself, but it was too late. The door to the drawing-room opened and there she was.
The smile upon her lips was like the sun after a week of rain until he noticed the dullness in her eyes. She appeared thinner, though her abdomen was nearly as large as when she had carried William. Perhaps it was the sunken skin beneath her eyes which spoke of nights of weeping. Did she weep for him? His first desire was to take her in his arms, but he minded Bingley’s warnings and simply waited.
“Charles, you are early!” Elizabeth smiled as she stepped forward to greet her brother. “And we had such plans to welcome you home to-morrow.” Her eyes met Darcy’s and her lip trembled. “And you have brought company.” Her voice also held a tremor and her eyes suddenly filled so that she turned aside before greeting him directly. “Mr. Darcy, welcome to Netherfield.”
It was not the welcome he desired, but it was warm, if guarded. “I thank you, Madam. May I express my condolences upon the death of Mr. Collins? Forgive me for not doing so sooner. I had sent word through my cousin, Anne, but she informed me you had already left the area before she received my letter.”
They settled into seats, Darcy being mindful not to sit too near for fear of increasing Mrs. Bingley’s ill-ease.
“Yes,” she bowed her head, “Anne mentioned your words when she wrote me. There was nothing to keep me in Hunsford and I thought it best that I not linger.” She ran a hand over her stomach.
“Travel in your condition would be difficult in any circumstance.” His hand itched to hold hers, to caress her. He could feel his fingers twitching and clutched them in his lap. “It is good that the bitter weather of this past winter has ended. We were able to arrive early due to the unseasonable warmth. Have you been able to enjoy it?”
“Have I been traipsing about the countryside, do you mean?” Elizabeth laughed. “No, but Jane and I have taken tea in the garden the last two days.”
“It is the concession I must make to keep her from wandering off,” Jane smiled at her sister before turning toward her husband. “We walked the paths and I noted some areas which require attention. I believe the herb garden should be expanded. Do you have any aversion to it, Charles?”
“Whatever you believe to be best, my dear.” He kissed her hand which he still held. “I know little of gardens and would not know the proper size required for such a thing. Simply tell Nicholls and she will see it done.”
“Poor Nicholls,” Elizabeth sighed. “I believe that is your response for everything, Charles.” She looked at her sister and winked. “I do hope you compensate her sufficiently, Jane. I fear another who would promise not to put so much upon her might steal the woman away.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you know we do not mistreat our servants.” Jane glanced at the door as the woman herself entered, followed by a maid with the tea tray. “Nicholls, do you feel put upon?”
Though she looked puzzled, the servant smiled good naturedly at the sisters. “Most certainly not, Mrs. Bingley. Is Mrs. Lizzy teasing you again? She has always done so, since you were small girls.”
“Actually, she is teasing my husband.” Jane patted Bingley’s hand before motioning for the maid to set the tea tray before her. “Is Mr. Darcy’s room ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The housekeeper turned toward him more formally. “You are in the room you occupied when visiting in the past, sir. If there is anything else you require, please notify me.”
Darcy nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Nicholls. It is a pleasure to return to Netherfield.”
The woman dropped a curtsey and followed the maid from the room with a pleased smile upon her lips.
Mrs. Bingley poured the tea and handed it about as she and her sister continued to speak of what had occurred in Bingley’s absence. The scene caused a desire for the repetition of such to swell in Darcy’s chest and he considered that it could very well be so in but one more year.
“So, you will be with us for one week, sir?” Mrs. Bingley asked, drawing him from his wool-gathering.
“Yes. I am to escort my sister to the theatre and a few other events. She is staying with Lord and Lady Matlock and my cousin is acting as escort, but I wish to know the people she is meeting.” Darcy sipped his tea.
“And scare away any young men with whom you disapprove?” Elizabeth asked before hiding her smile behind her cup.
“If necessary,” Darcy shrugged, “though I believe Fitzwilliam’s sabre strapped to his side is a grand deterrent for any with ill-suited intentions.” Before he realized what he did, he winked in her direction causing her to giggle in reply.
Bingley cleared his throat. “Perhaps you will see Caroline while in town. Did I write you of her marriage? Of course, I did. She and her husband rarely stir from town. They are both social beings. I have heard him say he is considering running for the House of Commons.”
“Really?” Darcy placed his full focus upon his host and was careful not to show Elizabeth any additional attention as the tide of conversation changed. The likelihood of Roger Evington being elected was commented upon by all, though Elizabeth had little to contribute having never met the gentleman. Darcy had and, though he would not call the man a friend, he considered him an overall decent fellow sufficiently concerned with the working man to be a benefit in public service.
The conversation ended as the tea cooled and Darcy excused himself, certain his valet had sufficient time to ready a change of clothing for him. He was making his way toward the guest wing when he heard a noise behind him and turned to see Elizabeth approaching slowly.
“Forgive me, sir.” She curtseyed. “I thought it best to give my sister and her husband some time alone. Perhaps you would like to visit with William once you are refreshed.”
A lump formed in Darcy’s throat. “I would love to do so.”
“The nursery is on the third floor, through the double doors.”
“Will you be there?” His words were a mere whisper.
“I spend much of my time there, as does Jane.” Her hands moved over her stomach drawing Darcy closer to her, but she stepped away and dipped a quick curtsey before turning toward the family wing.
Darcy watched her go, silently chastising himself for forgetting his promise to Bingley so soon. He needed to speak to her, but it could not be under the eyes of any servants or their hosts, and her condition limited the distance she could travel. He bit back a curse and continued to his room. There had to be a way and Nelson might be the answer. Who better than a servant to know the most isolated areas on an estate?
***********
Laughter could be heard just on the other side of the nursery doors, but Darcy was hesitant to open them. Peels of giggles drew him forward and he k
nocked lightly before peeking inside. William writhed upon the floor as Elizabeth tickled his stomach. A young girl sat nearby smiling broadly until she saw him. The smile quickly left her face and she jumped to her feet, dipping a curtsey before she addressed him.
“Forgive me, sir, I did not hear you enter.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, her smile still lighting her face. “Mr. Darcy is an old friend, Betsy. He simply wished to say hello to William.” She helped the boy to his feet and straightened his clothing. “Do you remember Mr. Darcy, William?”
The question struck Darcy like a knife to the heart. Of course, William most likely did not remember him, but he was determined to be the most important man in the young boy’s life. He stepped into the room and knelt so not to intimidate the child. “Hello, William.”
He could see the boy struggled between a desire to shyly hide behind his mother and a sense of recognition.
“Do you remember the time we spent together by the sea? How we would build towers in the sand?” Darcy asked.
“Tow’rs?” William asked and looked toward his blocks which sat nearby. He toddled toward them and grabbed two, bringing them to Darcy.
“Ah, you have found another way to build. When you are a man, what will you create?”
Darcy took the blocks and set them one on top of the other while William went for more. Soon they had several small stacks arranged to William’s delight. When he returned from the box this time, he carried a red ball and a large smile graced his features.
“Oh, do beware, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth began, but the ball flew in Darcy’s direction before she could finish.
He caught it easily and William clapped with delight when his startled reaction toppled one tower into another bringing several to the ground.
“Was that his intention?” he asked Elizabeth, an amused smile upon his lips.
“I believe he is attempting to roll the balls into the towers but holds it too long and does not bend near enough to the ground. Cook taught him in Hunsford when …” Her smile faded and she ran a hand over her skirts. “She would place the ball in his hand and guide him, releasing it for him.”
“Ah.” Darcy set the blocks back in place and moved behind William. With Darcy’s assistance, William had scattered all the blocks with only two attempts. They were laughing freely when applause came from the doorway. He looked up to see Bingley and his wife watching them.
“What fun!” Bingley cried as he caught the ball which had rolled out of Darcy’s reach. “May I play?”
“Unca Bing!” William cried as he ran to his uncle.
Though Elizabeth and William had only been at Netherfield one night before Bingley left, the families had visited frequently since Elizabeth’s return to Longbourn. Anyone willing to sit on the floor and play with him was quickly William’s favourite, and “Unca Bing” was more animated even than “An Liddy”.
“You were missed, sir,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. She turned to her side, getting her knees beneath her in order to stand, but Darcy moved quickly and lifted her to her feet. His hand brushed over her stomach as he set her to right and their eyes met briefly. “Thank you.” Her voice was near a whisper and her eyes lingered upon his before she finally turned to the others. “I should know better than to crawl about on the floor when I am unable to rise unassisted.”
Darcy turned in time to see Mrs. Bingley frown, her eyes lingering where his hand still steadied her sister. He allowed his arm to fall back to his side and stepped toward his friend instead. “Unca Bing?” he asked with a chuckle.
“I like it.” Bingley had settled William against his shoulder and the boy was tugging at his lapel.
“Play!” William called out before leaning backward.
Both Darcy and Bingley reached out to grab the babe before he fell. William, seeing that this new man was much taller, tugged Darcy’s hands and pulled himself out of Bingley’s grasp.
“Up!” He lifted both hands into the air and Darcy lifted him above his head, careful not to bump him against the ceiling. Giggles were his reward, so he lowered him nearly to the floor and lifted him quickly into the air once more.
“William,” Mrs. Bingley scolded with a laugh, “you must not tire Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy gathered the boy to his chest and William wrapped his arms about his neck. “Unca Da,” he said as he snuggled against him reminding Darcy of their time at Ramsgate.
“It is well, William.” He glanced toward the far door and noted the nurse had returned. “I believe your dinner has arrived, son. Shall we wash your hands?” He carried the boy over to a basin set at his level and placed him on the floor. Taking up a cloth, he dipped it into the water and wiped off William’s hands and face.
“What do you say to Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Bingley asked with a hint of censure in her tone.
Darcy glanced in her direction and saw her watching Elizabeth who was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. He smiled, noting it was one of his, as the boy replied.
They left William to his nurse and his dinner and the adults went below to their own meal. Darcy found himself seated across from Elizabeth and took the time to study all the changes that had come since he last saw her. He had been correct in his earlier estimate that, despite her pregnancy, she had lost weight. Her cheekbones were more defined and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her collarbones also appeared more prominent. She no longer wore the displeasing fichus and matron caps, but the black of her mourning caused her skin to appear sallow. Perhaps it was due to the harsh winter forcing everyone to remain indoors. All he could think of was the golden tan which had covered her skin after their time by the sea, followed by a comparison to the alabaster colour of those areas untouched by the sun, seen only by him.
Bingley cleared his throat and Darcy realized all had grown quiet. “I beg your pardon,” he began, uncertain who had spoken or even what topic was being addressed. “I fear I am somewhat distracted this evening. Perhaps I am dreading London society more than I had anticipated. I was thinking of the delightful time in the nursery.”
“Indeed,” Bingley scolded but quickly laughed. “I have never known the joy of having a child in the house. Being the youngest, I have only heard stories from my sisters of how bothersome I was. I must have been a dreadful child.” He looked toward his wife. “We can only hope our children will take after you, my dearest.”
“Oh yes,” Elizabeth agreed. “Jane has always been the sweetest person I know.”
Mrs. Bingley smiled, but it appeared forced. “I had asked, Mr. Darcy, if you found everything in your room to your liking.”
“Yes.” Darcy nodded. “The room is quite comfortable, Madam. I apologize again for my wool-gathering.”
She said nothing but nodded her head and they returned to their meal.
When the last course was removed, Bingley suggested they forego separating and proceed to the drawing-room together. Mrs. Bingley frowned, and Elizabeth shook her head.
“Charles, you are just returned after being away for a fortnight. Do you not wish to spend time with your wife? I am tired and will retire early. Mr. Darcy, you are also fatigued after hours in the carriage, I am certain.” She met his gaze with wide eyes.
“Yes, I am,” he readily agreed, wondering if she had somehow arranged a way for them to speak that evening.
“Nonsense, Lizzy.” Mrs. Bingley watched her sister with eyes narrowed. “It would be rude for us to slip away while we have guests.”
“Truly, Mrs. Bingley,” Darcy assured her. “You have already seen my distraction. I am certain after reading only a few pages I shall be sound asleep.”
“If you are certain,” Bingley began as he stood and offered his arm to his wife. “I would prefer a night of sleep in my own bed for once.”
Mrs. Bingley took his arm but cast a suspicious glance upon her sister. “Well, I suppose we shall say good night then.”
Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm to escort her up the stairs and they parted at the guest
hallway, Elizabeth following her brother and sister into the family wing. He returned to his room, waiting for the arrival of Nelson or, perhaps, Elizabeth. His expectations were fulfilled, but not to his satisfaction, when his valet woke him half an hour later and assisted him into his nightclothes.
The house seemed to settle, but Darcy was anxious and hopeful. After another thirty minutes had passed, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. All was quiet and dark. He considered trying to find her until, remembering his promise to Bingley, he returned inside. Settling into the bed, his frustration grew worse. They were under the same roof, yet he was no closer to her than he had been at Pemberley.
*CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE*
Elizabeth sat in the window seat of her room staring out at the star-filled sky. Her hands moved over her stomach as tears ran silently down her cheeks. He had come to her. For the last six weeks she had lived in a state of limbo; a place where she simply was, with no future and no past. Immersed in her guilt, she had only thought upon that moment when the realization of his death had settled upon Mr. Collins and the weight of her complicity had shattered her heart. She had pushed any thought of a future from her mind, but now he was here.
His gaze during dinner had felt like a physical touch, warming her skin as it travelled down her body, even to areas blocked from view by the dining table. Her hand rose to her throat, her fingers tracing the path over her shoulders and along her décolletage as her eyes drifted shut. How she longed for his touch, his embrace; yet how could she return to him? How could he love her if he knew what she had done? She shook her head and wiped away the tears.
The distant sky began to glow, and Elizabeth realized she had spent another sleepless night. Her back ached as she pushed herself up from the bench. Perhaps she would be able to find a few hours of rest. The sheets were cold when she slipped between them and she tucked them about herself, hoping to trap some warmth. Her mind once more travelled the short distance to where Darcy most certainly slumbered, and she remembered the comfort of lying beside him. If she allowed it, her mind could recall the feeling of his arms about her, his hands running over her bare skin with no direction, and his lips placing kisses upon her neck. Her tears fell afresh, and she pinched her eyes shut.
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