The Dread Mr. Darcy
Page 22
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “For God’s sake, let him inside!”
* * *
Somehow, Elizabeth managed to convince them to give her some time alone with her husband. Darcy, wrapped in towels, his hair sopping wet, stood at the foot of the bed and looked them both over.
“You didn’t have to let me in,” he said. “I was only waiting to hear that you were all right, and that the babe was safe as well. I do not mean to intrude.”
Elizabeth offered him the little bundle in her arms. “Would you like to hold your son?”
Darcy licked his lips. He hesitated. “Very much.” His voice wasn’t strong.
Was he crying? Or was that just the rain on his cheeks?
She handed the baby over.
Darcy cradled the tiny boy carefully. “Oh, Elizabeth. He is so perfect.”
She was going to cry. But instead, she forced herself not to. She lifted her chin. “I should not forgive you, you know. You don’t deserve it.”
“I do know,” he said, still staring at their son. “I won’t… Say the word, and I shall leave. I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”
“That’s the thing about forgiveness, though,” said Elizabeth softly. “You don’t do it because someone deserves it. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
He looked up at her, confused.
“Love isn’t about that,” she said. “It’s not about keeping score. It’s not about everyone getting what he deserves. And I love you, Mr. Darcy.”
“You do?” Now, he was crying. She was almost sure of it. “Because I love you more than life.”
“Yes, I do.” She cocked her head to look at him. “But if there were a score to be kept, I might tell you that I remember life before I met you, and it was a dull place, in which I was bound by propriety and rules. I was worth nothing because society dictated that unless I found a husband, I was simply dead weight. But you… you showed me another world, where society’s rules didn’t matter, where I could do as I please and take what I wanted. You woke me up, Mr. Darcy. And there is something to that, something powerful.”
He shook his head. “Elizabeth, no. What I have done to you is only visit one evil after another—”
“You have given me our son, darling. He is pure perfection.”
“Yes.” He turned back to the bundle in his arms in wonder.
“At any rate, I have decided to give you another chance, even if you don’t deserve it.” Then she smiled mischievously. “But have a care, Mr. Darcy. I might change my mind and kill you any time I like.”
His eyes widened in shock, and then in remembrance. And he smiled back at her—that insouciant smile that was all their own. “Fair enough, Mrs. Darcy. Fair enough.”
“Kiss me, then,” she said. “I have had a rather rough day.”
He laughed, and he came closer. Their lips met, sweetly and softly, like the warm calm sea on a sunny day.
He handed her back the baby.
She smiled down at her tiny son. “So, you have stopped using the laudanum? Tell me about that.”
EPILOGUE
Sometimes, when Elizabeth pondered how well things had gone for her, she could hardly believe it. She patted her rounded belly as she reclined on the couch in the nursery.
Darcy was sitting across from her, their eldest son crawling all over him. Watching the two of them always brought tears to her eyes because of their sweetness. She supposed it might be because she was with child. She was always a bit more teary when she was increasing. But she thought it was especially because of how gentle Darcy was with their child.
Though things between Darcy and her family—especially Jane—were not smooth as silk, she would no longer consider them bumpy. Darcy had changed, and everyone had seen it. There was no condemnation for him now that he had set about making things right.
Little Eric was tickling his father’s stomach.
Darcy was putting on a little laugh. “Are you tickling Papa?” he asked in the voice he used only for Eric.
Eric screamed with laughter and did it again.
It made her heart swell, watching Darcy this way. For all his masculinity and bravado, he could be a man who adored a little boy and played games with him. The same man who had tricked men on the high seas was now at the mercy of a little boy’s tickles.
Eric bounded out of Darcy’s arms and toddled over to Elizabeth. “Tickle baby brother,” he said, climbing up next to her and putting his hands on her round stomach. He had already decided that baby in her womb would be a boy, even though Elizabeth thought it would be nice to have a little girl. One of each. But as long as the babe arrived healthy, she would be grateful. She and Darcy were already so lucky, and the new child only served to make them luckier.
Eric looked up at her with big, round eyes. “Is he giggling in your belly, Mama?”
“Yes, little one,” she said, rubbing his head, feeling the sweetness of his fine, soft hair. Just then, the baby in her womb decided to kick.
Eric squealed. “He likes the tickles, Mama!”
Darcy chuckled from across the room, getting up to join them. “Is he moving?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said.
Darcy placed his hand on her stomach.
Another little kick.
His face lit up with a smile. “He’s a strong one.”
“He might be a she, you know,” said Elizabeth.
“If so, she’s going to be just as stubborn as her mother, my love.” Darcy kissed her forehead.
“Don’t want a sister,” said Eric, sticking out his lower lip. “Want a brother. I want it to be all boys.”
Elizabeth and Darcy both laughed.
“You would love your sister once you got used to her,” said Darcy.
Eric shook his head, making a face. “I don’t think so.”
They laughed again.
“You are precious,” said Elizabeth, leaning down to kiss Eric’s cheek.
“Ah,” Darcy whispered. “I love you both so much.”
She smiled up at him.
He smiled too. “More than anything on earth. More than anything in the sky. More than anything in the sea.”
* * *
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