by Jan Hahn
When I ceased to speak and he said nothing, I ventured a look at him. His face was dark, his breathing apparent; his chest moved visibly, a clear indication of how I had wounded him. When he turned to meet my gaze, I almost gasped aloud to see the depth of anger in his eyes.
"You truly thought that, Elizabeth?" His voice sounded hard as stone. "You had no greater understanding of my character than to think me capable of such despicable behaviour?"
I barely nodded. "I did not wish to do so, sir. In truth, I wonder that I ever believed it in my heart, but at the time I was angry, confused, and unable to see past the fact that you were sending me off to Derbyshire while keeping her in London with you."
"I kept her there to help me! Fiona knew which of the menservants had made overtures to her. She was necessary to help solve the case. I was ready even to use her as bait in order to lure them out of their miserable holes, if needed. I would have done anything to protect Georgiana."
"I can see that now. And I acknowledge that my suspicions were groundless, but you must remember that when I asked, you refused to tell me the name of Willie's father. You said it was 'your responsibility.' Why did you not reveal that it was Mr. Wickham? What possible reason could you have had not to inform me?"
"Mr. Wickham is your brother-in-law. I did not wish to paint him in any worse light. I knew you regretted your sister's marriage and I hoped to spare you any greater pain on her behalf. I see that I was wrong to have done so."
"You were wrong. You should have answered my question, William. You should...oh, what is the use of discussing it. What is done is done and now we must bear the consequences."
"Right." His speech was clipped and abrupt. "We should return to the house."
He began to walk with such speed that I almost had to run to keep up with his long legs. He made no further conversation. I could see I had injured him with a wound so deep I feared it might not heal. Oh, why could I not have made up a silly story to account for my prior behaviour? Why had I been so brutally honest? I knew the answer full well. I wished with all my heart for this marriage to become one of mutual trust and if it were to be, we could not proceed on a bed of lies. We had to tell each other the truth from that day forward.
The storm broke long before we reached the house, soaking us with rain. Mr. Darcy removed his great coat and without touching me, placed it about my shoulders. He did not take my hand or assist me in slogging through the mud. The only time he offered his assistance occurred at the stile when he briefly took my hand as I climbed over it. There were no hands about my waist or long looks in my eyes. It seemed that not only had the storm broken, but our brief happiness as well.
A hot bath helped me recover physically from the long walk in the rain. Emotionally, I remained devastated. My mind replayed statements I had made and then heard the angry words Mr. Darcy had spoken, back and forth, over and over. I soaked for no little time, oblivious to the aroma of the salts added to the steaming water. Afterwards, Sarah dried my hair before the fire and I lay down upon the bed while she picked up towels and the remains of my wet clothing and took them below stairs to the laundry. When she returned, I asked that she have a tray sent up with supper and that she inform Mr. Darcy I would not join the family that evening.
Less than a quarter of an hour later, a forceful knock at the door caused me to sit up. When I called out to enter, he strode into my chamber, his curls still damp from his own bath.
"Are you ill?" he asked immediately.
I shook my head, suddenly aware that he was fully dressed, but I wore only my robe.
"Then why will you not leave your chamber?"
"I...I thought it best."
"Best? In what way?"
"Perhaps we have seen enough of each other for today, sir."
He pressed his lips together and looked away, obviously still angry. "Very well, if that is your wish." He stalked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Oh, William, it is not my wish, I wanted to cry aloud. Why had I not spoken? Why did his presence reduce me to a tongue-tied simpleton? I picked up a pillow and threw it at the door and then buried my face in another, giving way to sobs.
Sometime later when Sarah brought up my tray, I told her to take it away, that I was not hungry. She frowned and I knew she could see the tearstains on my face, but I had not the means to hide them. As she turned to leave, I heard another sound in the hall, and hoping it was Mr. Darcy, I hastily wiped my eyes and rose from the bed. It was not. Instead, Fiona entered the room and curtseyed.
"Begging your pardon, Mistress, I just wanted you to know that I have arrived."
"Fiona, come in. Was your journey uneventful?"
"Yes, Ma'am, except my Willie got sick from the jostling of the coach. He's never ridden in one before."
"I hope his illness will be of short duration."
"Oh, yes, Ma'am. He is fine now that we're here. If it is all right with you, Ma'am, I'll be up to serve you in the morning. The master said I might take tonight off and get Willie settled and all."
So she has already seen the master, I thought. "Of course. Tomorrow will be fine."
She thanked me, but did not move to vacate the room and so I added, "Was there anything else?"
She smiled. "Just that it's grand to see you again, Ma'am, and to be back here at Pemberley."
I nodded and with another curtsey, she left my chamber. Why had I not been more welcoming? The girl had done nothing to harm me and yet I still resented her, resented that she had come between my husband and me. She had done nothing of the sort, of course, but it was much easier to be angry with her than with myself. I had made a mess of things and Mr. Darcy had done precious little to help me out of it. I wondered if we would ever sort it all out.
Chapter 13
That night I could not sleep. I tossed to and fro until my sheets were in a hopeless tangle. Finally, I arose and poked at the fire enough to cause it to blaze up a little. The room having grown cold, I donned my robe and slippers, sat before the fire and pondered upon what I should do. My first impulse was to flee. Yes, I would escape to Longbourn, to Jane's welcoming arms and understanding heart. I would even endure Mamá's endless harangues to once again be where I was loved, for home was a place where they would take me in, no matter what. Not like Pemberley where the master of the house now looked upon me with evident distaste. How could I endure living there under such circumstances? For now, how would I endure the night, wondering how much Mr. Darcy regretted having married me?
The small clock on the mantel chimed three times. I sighed again and wondered what I should do. And then my anger began anew. I was not the only one at fault here. Mr. Darcy could have prevented my fears and distrust if he had been more open, if he, in turn, had trusted me with the truth. I became so angry I began to pace, and not long after that I decided to confront him, even though it was but three o'clock in the morning.
Very quietly, I tapped at the door separating us, and when I heard no answer from within, I slowly turned the knob and peered inside. The room was in total darkness; not even the remains of a fire existed in the fireplace. I ventured in and felt my way to his bed. When I bumped into the bedpost, I called out his name, but there was no answer. I ran my hands along the bed and could tell that it was made up, that he was not there. He had decided to sleep elsewhere after all. Was it because of his ill temper or might he still consider me a temptation? I could not rest until I knew the answer.
I returned to my room and after lighting a candle, I walked out into the great hall. I knew the location of Georgiana's chamber and the colonel's, as well. On this floor that left only the two suites that had belonged to Mr. Darcy's parents and one William had used years before. I padded along the carpet close to the south end of the hall where I knew the prior master suites to have been placed. I tapped lightly at the door that Mrs. Reynolds had told me belonged to Mr. Darcy's father and that William, himself, had used since becoming master. When I did not hear an answer I quietly turned t
he knob and lifted the candle, but to my dismay, found it empty.
I then proceeded to look in Mrs. Darcy's former room and not finding my husband there either, I considered giving over and returning to my own bed, deciding my husband had possibly removed himself to another wing. He must really want to get away from me, I thought. The only room remaining on the hall was one William had used as a young man long before becoming master of Pemberley. It was situated at the farthest end of the hall and Mrs. Reynolds had told me it was rarely even used as a guest room, as it still contained numerous items William had saved from childhood and others he had brought home from his days at Cambridge. I knew that I would not rest if I did not check it, too, so I softly pushed open the great door and in the dim candlelight, I caught my breath when I saw him asleep in his old bed.
Closing the door behind me, I walked inside and cleared my throat. It proved a vain attempt, for he did not awaken. I held the candle closer and could see him sleeping soundly, his beautiful dark curls tousled, his face softened by slumber, with neither sign of anger nor anguish about it. My heart melted at the sight. Upon impulse, I placed the candle on the small table beside the bed, blew it out, and stood there chewing my lip. I shivered in the coolness of the night, took a deep breath...and crawled into his bed. He roused slightly and turned over. Now thoroughly chilled from my walk in the hall, I cuddled up to his back and placed my arms around him, hugging his body close to me to feel its familiar warmth. If I had to leave tomorrow, I would at least have the memory of this night.
It was not long before I fell into a sound sleep.
~ * ~
I awoke to the sensation of a finger running lightly along my cheek and then across my bottom lip. Slowly, I opened my eyes, shocked at the sight of Mr. Darcy's face so close to mine. Momentarily, I forgot how I had come to lie in his bed, but then the knowledge of my daring action flooded my consciousness.
"Good morning, Elizabeth," he said.
"Good morning," I managed to murmur.
"Do you know where you are?"
I nodded. He raised one eyebrow.
"It seems that you have been stricken by your affliction, forcing you into my bed once again."
Slowly, I shook my head back and forth.
He frowned and raised himself up on one elbow. "Then how..." "I came willingly," I said softly. His smile turned somewhat tenuous. "Indeed? But why?"
"I needed to be with you one last time."
"Last time? Of what are you speaking?"
A heavy sigh escaped before I could suppress it; then, summoning my courage, I spoke quickly. I did not even pause to take a breath until I ran out of air. "I know, sir, that my previous mistrust of you has destroyed your faith in me and you told me some time ago that once your good opinion is lost, it is lost forever so, yes, I think it best that I leave Pemberley today, for I cannot see how we are to ever make a marriage out of this jumble."
"Well, we certainly cannot if you are to run off at the first sign of trouble." He lay back on the pillow.
"First sign?" I was incredulous at his understatement. "Sir, we have been in trouble since the beginning."
"What do you mean?"
"Our marriage began as nothing more than a practical arrangement. Distrust on both our parts has been rampant."
He sat up once again and looked directly at me. "I cannot speak for you, Elizabeth, but you speak in error as to my feelings. I have never distrusted you. Not ever."
"Then why have you not confided in me? Why have you avoided telling me the truth whenever I have asked certain questions?"
"I take offense at that!" Anger resounded in his voice. "I abhor deceit and have never lied to you."
"You have not lied, but you have refused to answer my questions."
"Only when I deemed it best."
"Well, it is not best," I said with as much force as possible. "Have you ever even slightly considered, sir, that you might not always know what is best for others?"
For some reason he seemed to relax then and spoke almost lazily, while that tantalizing smile of his played about his mouth, "Hmm...you think that, do you? And so your solution is to leave. Well, just where do you propose to go?"
"To Longbourn. And...and you may rest assured I shall release you from your obligation."
"Release me? And may I ask how you presume to do that?"
"I do not know. Surely, your barrister can work out the legalities whereby you may be free to marry again."
He laid his head back upon the pillow and once again began to run his finger along my cheek and across my lips. "And if I do not wish to be free?"
"But you must. You were angry and hurt by my distrust. I saw it in your eyes, William, and I heard it from your lips."
"True. But anger and distrust can be overcome."
I found it most difficult to think clearly when he persisted in caressing my lips and I became aware that we lay very close together; in fact, we were lying in each other's arms.
"How?" I managed to whisper.
"Well, you have made a good beginning by coming to me. But if you run off now, I cannot see how that will help sort things out at all. Much better to stay and face the music."
"I am afraid, sir, that I do not know the song."
"Oh, but I do, my dear. I know it well."
He then began to kiss me slowly, deliberately, caressing my lips with his in such a delightfully tender manner that I felt my whole body catch fire. I longed for him to deepen our kiss, and when he persisted in only teasing me with the barest of strokes, my arms tightened around him and pulled him down, down, until his lips parted and became truly mine to possess.
Eventually, he pulled away, breathing heavily. "You are irresistible in the morning. Did you know that? Completely irresistible." He began to kiss me again, our passion growing with each caress. When I thought I would not...could not deny him any part of myself, he released me and sat up in bed, rubbed his hand against his mouth, and shook his head.
"This will not do, Elizabeth. It will not do."
I did not know what to think or say. "Shall I...leave, sir?"
He turned and looked at me over his shoulder, cutting his eyes at me in the most intoxicating manner. Early morning sleepiness still softened his expression; his nightshirt stood open at the neck, revealing the beginnings of his beautiful chest. "No, you shall not leave. Not now, not ever. You shall stay at Pemberley and you shall stay in my bed until we have talked this out."
"That might take some time, sir."
"I have nothing more important in my life, Elizabeth. Do you?"
I shook my head, so thrilled that he did not want to banish me that I could hardly think straight. We then began to discuss our differences, a list of which would exhaust the reader, but which we made a valiant attempt to assail. He bade me tell him every reason why I had distrusted him and dared to believe the ugly tale about Fiona. For his part, I have to admit that he listened well and did not interrupt me even when it was evident by the fire in his eyes, he would have preferred to throttle me. When I finished, I sat quietly, waiting for the onslaught of his temper.
Instead, he asked a simple question. "And do you now admit you were in the wrong?"
"Utterly and completely. And will you admit you should have been more open and forthcoming in answer to my questions?"
"I will. And so this part of our misunderstanding is now behind us, am I correct? You do believe that there is nothing between your maid and myself."
"Yes," I replied.
"Then we must seal it with a kiss and never speak of it again. Agreed?"
I am sure my eyes widened at his suggestion, but I was quick to nod in agreement. I sat up as he took my hands and pulled me to him. His lips closed upon mine and I can only say that he kissed me quite thoroughly, so much so that when he released me, I felt both the room and bed begin to spin. He steadied me with his hands and told me to scoot up in the bed and lean against the headboard, while he reclined against the foot.
"For
we must now move on to the next item on your agenda," he said firmly. I wondered how he could kiss me with such abandon and then move right on to thinking sensibly when my head was in such a muddle, but I strove mightily to think clearly and determined that the next words I spoke would be sensible.
"Sir, I must say this, for it is another example of how you keep things from me, although, on the other hand, I must admit it is the most generous thing you could ever do, so I suppose I am not actually complaining and yet I am in a way because you should have told me so that I would have known and afforded you the appreciation that you deserve most..."
"Elizabeth, you confuse me."
"I am somewhat confused, myself. I shall begin anew by thanking you for your kindness to my poor sister, Lydia. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."
I looked up to see how he met my declaration and noted the look of surprise on his face and then a forbidding frown settled about his eyes. "I am sorry, exceedingly sorry that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted."
"You must not blame my aunt, for it was Richard...Colonel Fitzwilliam who revealed it to me and, of course, I could not rest until I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again, in the name of my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble and bear so many mortifications for the sake of discovering them."
"If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. Your family owes me nothing. Much as I respect them, I thought only of you."
