Decisions

by Ola Wegner

  Elizabeth sighed. She suspected that their earlier misunderstandings had not been solved last night, at least not completely.

  Had he come to her only to fulfil his needs? The state of matters between them could not last much longer, this coldness on his part, his separation from her. She could not bear it.

  During the rest of the day her fears came true. He was reserved again. As if he was ashamed of what had happened the night before. When after the pianoforte session with Georgiana she returned to the library to write the letters, he left her alone. He mentioned important business with the steward concerning the estate. Elizabeth suspected it was an excuse to avoid her. She was well aware that he usually dealt with such matters first thing in the morning.

  ***

  After dinner, Elizabeth sang the new song which she had learned today. Thankfully Georgiana was accompanying her, for which Elizabeth was grateful. Singing and playing such a difficult opera piece would be much too challenging for her.

  Darcy clapped loudly, congratulating both of them on the “supreme performance,” as he described it.

  Elizabeth thanked him with a beautiful smile, then quoting a sudden headache she retired early for the night. She required time to prepare herself.

  “You are early today, my lady,” Drew said on seeing Elizabeth stepping into dressing room when she was rearranging the inside of the closet.

  “I would like to take a bath today with some of those rose-scented salts.”

  “Very well, my lady,” Drew said. “The bath should be ready in quarter of an hour. The water is already heating up.”

  “Thank you, Drew.”

  Elizabeth asked the maid to prepare one of those nightgowns which she had been so ashamed to wear in the first days of her marriage. Even now she much preferred simple cotton shifts which in her opinion were much more comfortable to sleep in. However, for tonight that lacy item would do very well indeed.

  Drew brushed her hair for a while to make it as straight and long as possible. Darcy enjoyed when the lush curtain fell down her arms and back. After sending the maid away, Elizabeth pinched her cheeks and sat on the bed. She expected Darcy to come in any moment, if only to ask about her headache.

  When the minutes passed and he did not appear, Elizabeth decided that she could not take it much longer.

  She detested the idea of a marriage where her husband visited her only at nights to take her body but barely acknowledged her during the day.

  On entering his bedroom, she found it empty. The only source of light was coming from the fireplace. She sat in front of it to warm her hands.

  Soon she heard the door opening. Clayton and Darcy walked in.

  “Leave us alone, Clayton,” Darcy said. “It will be all for tonight.”

  The valet left and Darcy came to stand in front of her.

  “Are you well?” he asked.

  “Quite well,” she said. “I thank you.”

  “How is your headache?”

  “Much better.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  He placed his hands behind his back. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  She stood up and squared her shoulders. “We should discuss certain matters.”

  Darcy removed his coat and necktie. Then he unbuttoned his vest.

  “I am listening.”

  “I wish to ask why you are so cold towards me?”

  He sat down on the armchair, glaring at her. “Am I neglecting you? Do you lack anything?”

  “Yes, I do. I am in need of your attention and warmth, your smile, your company not only at night but also during the day.”

  He pulled her by the hand and she landed on his lap. He kissed her on the lips. The kiss was a deep and passionate one. Elizabeth embraced him, keeping him tightly to her.

  “I want everything to be like it was were before our trip to Matlock,” she whispered into his ear.

  Darcy pushed her at arm’s length. “I think that while we were there you stated quite clearly where your interests lay,” he said coldly.

  “I cannot believe that throughout all this time you have been jealous of your cousin.”

  Darcy attempted to escape her gaze but she did not allow him that, cupping his cheek in her hand, forcing him to look at her.

  “Had you been given a choice, you would have selected him,” he said. “Would you not?”

  “I had no choice and you know it very well,” she retorted. “As for Colonel Fitzwilliam, he never had any intention to make me any offer.”

  “Only because he cannot marry whenever he wishes to.”

  “You are imagining things.”

  “No, I do not.” He removed her hands from his person and stood to his feet. She watched him as he was pacing the room. “I knew how he looked at you and you at him. You laughed at him, teased him.”

  “In your understanding, I cannot speak to another man apart from you?” she asked, her voice filled with rightful indignation.

  “At least you should contain your joy at being in his company.”

  She frowned. “You are utterly unreasonable,” she told him. “He was the only person at Matlock I knew a bit better. I enjoyed his company but I would have also enjoyed yours if you had opened yourself to me a little more.”

  “Forgive me for not being as outspoken as my cousin.”

  Elizabeth wished to turn on her heel and leave him alone here so he could sulk. Something told her that she could not do it. Darcy would retreat even more into his shell and away from her. Then in a few days or weeks he would come to her bed one night when his body would crave it and she would almost beg him to stay until the morning. She detested the idea.

  “Fitzwilliam…I…” She walked to him, touching his arm. “I will not apologize for speaking to your cousin. I did nothing wrong.”

  “I know very well that you prefer him over me.” There was so much hurt in his words that it took her breath away.

  “I enjoy Colonel Fitzwilliam’s company, it is true, but he is not on my thoughts, I do not care for him the way I do for you. I do not worry about him, I do not long for his touch, for his attention, for his kindness. I forget his presence the moment he leaves the room.” She stood directly in front of him. She cupped his cheek, making him look at her. “Please, you are breaking my heart when you treat me so coldly. I never wished for such a marriage.”

  Her assurances must have touched something inside of him. “Neither did I,” he whispered.

  “Please, Fitzwilliam, I care for you. I did not when we got married, but now it has changed. You are my only true friend here. I feel so very lonely when you treat me like a stranger.”

  He put both of his hands on her face. “You are mine, do you understand?”

  She nodded. “I do. I am yours. Only yours.”

  He kissed her violently. He picked her up in his arms and before long she was on the bed and he was spreading her legs.

  His movements were fast and determined, quite different than ever before. Elizabeth tried to coax him back into her arms for some kisses and caresses, but he was determined to keep his pace. He opened her gown with one pull and began feasting on her bosom.

  Elizabeth sighed with pleasure. She put her hands above her head, enjoying his ministrations. He was a little rougher than before but she did not mind it. She was disappointed when he ceased assault on her breast and settled himself between her spread legs. Elizabeth watched him opening his trousers. She did not feel quite ready yet to receive him. He was by any means a large man in any respect, and she needed at least some time to be able to accept him smoothly.

  He inserted his fingers inside of her, curling them up. Elizabeth’s back arched like a bow, a gasping sound escaping her lips. Then he pushed himself inside of her and began moving violently. He did not hurt her but it was not what she was accustomed to and not what she preferred.

  “Fitzwilliam, please,” she said as he surged inside of her with his eyes closed. “Look at me,” she said, cupping h
is cheek. He opened his eyes.

  “You are crushing me like this,” she complained.

  She pushed him decidedly off her. He did not protest.

  Before he could say or do anything, Elizabeth climbed over him. She leaned down to kiss him. Then she took his engorged manhood into her hand and slowly she put it inside herself. She began rocking over him, careful to feel her own pleasure and build it up within herself.

  She placed his hands on her breasts, showing him what she desired. She was close to finding her pleasure when Darcy moved them back into the previous position. He pinned her hands above her head and surged into her.

  Elizabeth was certain that her moans were heard throughout the better part of the house. At that very moment, though, she could not care less.

  ***

  Mary Drew crossed the courtyard, inhaling the fresh spring air. She walked quickly. She had spent Sunday with her boy in Lambton and she was very pleased about it. She had just returned from Lambton, travelling with the butchers who brought fresh meat to the house.

  As she entered the house through the back entrance she was met with the familiar commotion of the great house.

  For a while she talked to the maid who acted as her replacement to check if everything had gone smoothly. Then she went upstairs to the left wing where the family rooms were situated.

  Mary entered the mistress’s bedchamber to see that the bed was made and that everything was in perfect order. She walked through the sitting room and opened the door leading to the master’s room. As she expected, the maids were already working there, making the bed and changing the sheets. Mary picked up Mrs Darcy’s nightgown which was abandoned on the floor by the fireplace.

  Clayton, Mr Darcy’s valet, walked into the room.

  “Mrs Drew, may I speak to you?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Mary said. “What is the matter, Mr Clayton?”

  The valet looked over at the maids. “In private.”

  They stepped into the dressing room.

  “I do hope that your free day was a success,” he said.

  “It was,” she answered. Mary did not like Mr Darcy’s valet very much. She had no intention to divulge to him the details of the day she had spent with her son.

  “Good. I wish to discuss with you what has been happening here for the last weeks.”

  “I do not understand.”

  Clayton lowered his voice. “Every morning when I come to wake up Master Darcy she is right there, in his bed.”

  “You mean Mrs Darcy?”

  The valet nodded, his expression pained.

  “Where should she be?”

  “In her own room.”

  “They are husband and wife,” Mary reminded him.

  “Mr George Darcy, whom I served as a valet, never allowed Lady Anne into his room. He always visited her in the mistress’s bedchamber. It is how things should be done.”

  “Mr Clayton, there is no difference, I believe, in which bed they occupy. Perhaps we should put a third bed in the sitting room between their bedrooms. That would solve the problem.”

  Clayton scowled. “Do not jest with me. I understand that Mrs Darcy is still very young. You should guide her with your advice as a more experienced woman. Mrs Darcy insists on coming to our master’s room every night. It is shameless.”

  “Watch your tongue, Mr Clayton,” Mary warned.

  “Mrs Drew,” the valet stared down at her. “I beg you to explain certain matters to Mrs Darcy.”

  “Mr Clayton, I shall not explain anything to Mrs Darcy. I also strongly advise you to keep your opinions to yourself. Particularly if you still wish to serve as the valet to the young master. I can guarantee you that one word from the mistress about your hostile behaviour towards her and you will be on your way to retirement sooner than you can blink.”

  Clayton puffed his chest. “I have served as the valet in this house for the last forty years.”

  Drew wanted to say to him that perhaps he had served for too long, but she thought that it would be unkind of her. “If you really cared for Master Darcy, you would be pleased that he was happy in his marriage,” was all she said.

  “It is not how things should be done,” the valet insisted.

  Drew turned on her heel and left the dressing room. She had no patience to speak with Mr Clayton. He stuck to his judgement and refused to listen to reason. The old man was going to bring problems on himself sooner rather than later with such an attitude.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elizabeth was settled comfortably on the sofa by the window, in a rather undignified pose with her legs bent up underneath her. She had spent nearly three hours by the desk answering the correspondence. Her back hurt, thus she had decided to change her location. She still had some letters left to read. She opened the first one. The local charity society from Chesterfield asked for her support. She had never heard of it. She was always willing to help, but she had to be careful. There were people who were prepared to abuse her generosity by requesting money to aid organizations which never even existed. She would have to consult the request with Mrs Reynolds, who possessed quite an expertise on such matters.

  The door opened. Elizabeth was about to sit properly but she saw that it was not the servant but her husband.

  “Fitzwilliam!” she exclaimed softly, running to him. She put her hands on his cheeks and brought his face down for a kiss. Only then did she notice that the steward, Mr Pierson, was right behind her.

  She was utterly mortified. She did not know where to look. She stepped away, putting her hands behind her back. She looked at her proper husband to check if he was not displeased with her. His expression was serious but his eyes were laughing.

  “We have some news concerning the stolen horses, Mrs Darcy,” Mr Pierson said after greeting her.

  “Truly?”

  “We believe that they were found in London,” Darcy said.

  “It is good news, I believe,” she said.

  “Indeed, it is, Mrs Darcy, indeed it is,” the steward confirmed.

  Elizabeth smiled at the steward. “Would you join us for tea, Mr Pierson?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs Darcy. There are still matters which I need to attend to before our trip to London. Excuse me.”

  The man left and Elizabeth stepped back to Darcy. “Are you going to London with Mr Pierson?”

  He placed his hands around her waist, looking deeply into her eyes. “I must,” he said.

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow at the earliest possible.”

  She placed her head on his chest, enjoying his closeness. “I apologize for kissing you in front of Mr Pierson. I thought that you were all alone. I promise to be more restrained in the future.”

  “I do not mind. Not in the least,” he assured her, kissing the top of her head.

  Elizabeth rang for tea, and while they waited Darcy looked at the correspondence on his desk which had arrived earlier that day.

  “Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said, looking up at him.

  “Yes, darling,” he asked distractedly, frowning over one of the letters. He opened it and began to read it.

  Elizabeth took it away from him, bringing his attention back to her person.

  “I would like to go with you.”

  “To London?” he questioned.

  She nodded.

  He leaned down to kiss her lips. Then, staring into her eyes, said, “My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. I do not plan on staying there longer than absolutely necessary. Such a journey could only prove to be tiresome for you.”

  “I do not mind a little discomfort.”

  “We would have to take a carriage, which would prolong it.”

  She sighed and looked down, not hiding her disappointment.

  He put his finger under her chin. “Moreover, you should not travel in your current condition.”

  “It is not yet certain. Moreover, I am feeling well. I could visit the Gardiners.”

  “Not this time. The weather is st
ill quite bad.”

  Elizabeth wished to argue with him to convince him but she knew that he would not agree. A few days ago he had surprised her, mentioning that for the last six weeks they had spent every night together, being intimate on most of them without the expected interruption.

  Elizabeth noted as well that she had missed her monthly twice already. Apart from that, she felt very well and had not developed any signs that indeed she was carrying a child. Darcy suggested that the physician or at the very least a midwife should be brought to check on her. Elizabeth opposed it vehemently. She thought it was much too soon for that.

  ***

  Elizabeth was sleeping deeply when she felt someone shaking her arm.

  “Lizzy, my love. Lizzy, wake up.”

  She pushed the hand away and buried herself deeper under the covers.

  “Lizzy, Lizzy.” The hand jostled her again.

  Reluctantly she opened her eyes.

  “What?” she asked in a voice thick from sleep.

  Darcy chuckled. “I am leaving for London.”

  She sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

  “London?” she murmured, disoriented.

  “You asked me to wake you before I left. I can now see that it was a mistake. I should have allowed you to sleep.”

  She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. “I shall walk you to the carriage to wave goodbye.”

  “It is quite enough if you stand in the window.”

  She yawned again. “I apologize,” she said. “Be careful while in London and on your way there.”

  “I always am.”

  Darcy kissed her on the forehead and left the room.

  Elizabeth stepped to the window. She opened it to inhale the fresh spring air coming into the room.

  She watched as Darcy and his steward mounted the horses and rode away. She prayed a little prayer to God to keep him safe.

  ***

  Elizabeth was seated at her desk in the library, writing busily. Darcy had been gone for four days already. She hoped that he should return today, but it appeared that the business in London took longer than he had expected.

  She was dealing with the correspondence which seemed to be a never ending duty when there was a knock on the door. It was the housekeeper.