Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle

by Webb, Brenda

  He patted her hand sympathetically. “And on Georgiana’s, I am sure.”

  She smiled bravely. “But that is how it should be, and I have no regrets. Life is about changes, and when they come, we simply must adjust. I am just so pleased that the children have found the perfect wife and a sister in Elizabeth. She will be good for the both of them!”

  “I agree. Elizabeth is a godsend.” Landingham looked as though he was going to say more.

  “Marshall, is there something else?”

  “I… I have thought a lot about Georgiana since she learned that I am her father. I would dearly love to spend more time with her before some young buck comes to claim her hand. I hoped to propose something to my godson that would make that possible, though I know he is fiercely protective of my daughter and rightly so.”

  “And what would you propose?”

  “I wish to ask him if, after we marry, he would allow Georgiana to live with us for six months of the year. I would suggest every other month, if that would be agreeable to him. After all, my estate is next to Pemberley, and we both have homes in Town, so it is not as though she would be very far away. In so doing, I pray that she and I will have a chance to strengthen our bond and, as a result, that would give Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth a bit more privacy as they begin their married life. It would depend on both Fitzwilliam and Georgiana agreeing, though, as I would never want to impose my will on either of them.”

  “I think that is a wonderful idea. Georgiana has expressed an eagerness to know you better. And I agree that it would give Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth time to establish their relationship.”

  Landingham pulled her into his arms. “Do you know how wonderful it is to find someone so well-suited to me? And most especially, one who knows my faults but loves me still?”

  “Yes, I do, for I have found the same in you.”

  Losing the struggle to control his emotions, Marshall glanced towards the imposing windows of the house. He knew that it was possible that the earl was standing behind them, and knowing that Edward might not take kindly to seeing his sister thoroughly kissed in the garden, he swiftly began to lead Audrey down the path towards the more secluded section.

  Reaching the vine-covered gazebo, he had barely pulled her inside when he captured her mouth hungrily. The kiss was thoroughly enjoyed by both, until a deep male voice sounded.

  “I think it would be to your advantage to find another location, Landingham. This one is already taken!”

  Startled, he jumped back, promptly scanning the surrounding landscape and only honing in on the interlopers after his hostess waved. The earl and countess, half-hidden by foliage, were sitting on a stone bench under a large willow tree not thirty feet away. Their expressions were such that it was obvious that both were greatly amused at his discomposure. Flustered, Marshall was searching his brain for a credible reply, when the countess spoke.

  “Never mind, Marshall, Edward and I were just leaving. Carry on!”

  The sounds of laughter wafted through the trees as the earl and countess made their way back to the house. Audrey, who appeared totally unperturbed at their detection, noted the perplexed expression still on Landingham’s face and smiled sympathetically.

  “Do not be so shocked, Marshall. I think we are all of an age to appreciate that we should not postpone any happiness we may find. My brother spoke to me of our plans directly after the breakfast. It is he who convinced me that if you were the man I loved, I should not wait any longer to marry.”

  Landingham’s posture relaxed as his face lit up. “He did? Remarkable! Then I owe him a debt of gratitude.” He pulled Audrey back into his embrace. “However, I shall thank him later… much later. Now where was I when we were so rudely interrupted?”

  He had no trouble remembering.

  ~~~*~~~

  Darcy House

  The first thing that Elizabeth noticed when William set her on her feet in the foyer was that the house seemed bereft of servants, the only ones visible being Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, who eagerly stepped forward to greet her with unrestrained joy written on their faces.

  “Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy!” They parroted one another.

  Elizabeth blushed with the use of her new title, nodding shyly while William acknowledged their greeting warmly. “It is good to be home again. Landingham’s home is perfectly adequate, but it does not compare to Darcy House or to my capable staff. By the way, Mrs. Barnes, were you able to accomplish all that I asked?”

  While William was speaking, the housekeeper took note that Elizabeth looked about with a perplexed expression. “Per your wishes, most of the servants are on holiday. Only those attending you and Mrs. Darcy will be allowed above the first floor until you leave for Pemberley. Those remaining have been instructed to do their jobs swiftly and without notice as far as possible. To that end, beginning tomorrow, if you ring for us from your dressing room, we will assume that you wish for a bath to be prepared. If you ring from the sitting room, it will signify that you wish for meals to be brought up instead of coming down to dine. A subsequent ring from either room will signify that the room is ready to be cleared.”

  Suddenly, she remembered something significant. “Oh, and lest I forget, the new copper bathtub was delivered two days ago and was installed in your dressing room.”

  William could not hold back a huge grin at the news. “Excellent.”

  “It certainly is… large,” Mr. Barnes offered, a restrained smile the only indication that he might be teasing. His wife stepped on his toe in retaliation.

  Fortunately, neither of the young couple noticed. When making his plans, William had never doubted that the servants would be curious as to why there was only to be one bath drawn each day.

  Elizabeth’s curiosity, however, was another matter entirely. After listening to his discussion with Mrs. Barnes, she had turned to regard him with her head tilted, one eyebrow raised in the inquisitive manner that he had come to adore.

  “Let me clarify for you, my dear. Since I did not have time to whisk you away on a wedding trip, I wanted our stay here to be as private as possible. Therefore, I asked that only those servants necessary for our convenience be on duty. After tonight, I shall have no valet and you shall have no ladies maid unless we summon them. In fact, it is my hope that it shall seem that we are the only two people in London, if not the entire world.”

  Elizabeth could not help but flush again with the implications and was reluctant to meet the eyes of Mr. or Mrs. Barnes, so she sought to examine her shoes. Seeing her discomfiture, William swept her off her feet.

  “Fitzwilliam!” she exclaimed, giggling despite her best efforts, “How am I to act the dignified mistress of Darcy House. You have already carried me over the threshold!”

  “I am well aware of that, Mrs. Darcy,” he retorted cheekily, “but I know of no rule that says I cannot carry you up the stairs as well.” With his wife in his arms, William turned to address the servants. “We shall dine downstairs tonight. Please notify me when dinner is ready.”

  Without another word, William scaled the staircase effortlessly, and while the housekeeper and butler watched them ascend, in only seconds the Darcys disappeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Well, Matilda,” Mr. Barnes offered, staring at an empty landing, “I suggest we go see what Cook is preparing for their first dinner as man and wife.”

  Mrs. Barnes, who had lifted her apron to dry some happy tears, was now smoothing it back down. “Oh, Maxwell, were we ever that much in love?”

  Putting his arm around his wife’s shoulders, the butler leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek. “We still are, Lovey!”

  “Indeed we are!” she declared and patted his cheek in return. It had been a long time since he had used that endearment. Then she sighed. “I am so proud that our dear boy has found a good woman to love him. I spent many a night praying over his situation. It is such a relief to know that the Lord has finally answered my prayers.”

  “He answered a l
ot of people’s prayers, Matilda.” With that the butler took his wife’s hand. “Come. We do not have any time to dawdle. I imagine our dear boy will want to eat quickly and get an early start on tonight.”

  “Maxwell!”

  “Well, it is the truth!”

  They walked towards the kitchen, chuckling and talking about how the entire atmosphere of the house had changed now that the Master had found the one woman who truly completed him.

  ~~~*~~~

  A sitting room

  Later that evening

  When they were reunited in her sitting room later that day, it was not far from Elizabeth’s mind that she and William had shared a similar evening at Darcy House only weeks before. On that occasion, the uncertainty of when they might meet again had caused Elizabeth great anxiety, but tonight she had a different kind of apprehension.

  Just as before, both were well turned-out—William, dashingly handsome in a dark blue suit with matching breeches, dark gold waistcoat, white shirt and cravat, while she wore a celestial blue crape 26 frock over a white satin slip, ornamented around the bottom with a deep border of tulle lace, embroidered with shades of dark blue silks and chenille. The gown was trimmed around the bodice and sleeves with the same embroidered lace.

  During the weeks leading to the wedding, Lady Ashcroft had insisted on ordering several gowns for Elizabeth from her personal modiste, though she specified that only three must be completed before the wedding, this being one of those. At the time, Elizabeth had protested that her current wardrobe was sufficient, but William’s aunt had been adamant. And tonight, seeing the look of admiration on her husband’s face, she was glad that Lady Ashcroft had carried the argument.

  After thoroughly inspecting her gown, William’s eyes were drawn to her face and hair. The maid had swept up the sides, incorporating them into several thick braids which she entwined with blue ribbons. She then fashioned the braids into a stylish top knot, leaving the back to hang in loose ringlets. From the look in his eyes, it was obvious that her husband was pleased.

  “Elizabeth, you look very beautiful.”

  Elizabeth blushed. Nonetheless, she had learned her lesson well. “Thank you, my darling husband.”

  William laughed. “I hope I have as much luck with my future requests, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “You may or may not,” she teased. “It shall depend on whether I think them worthy of agreement.”

  He bowed, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. “I concur with your reasoning, my love.” Then, tilting his head towards the door, he held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  ~~~*~~~

  The dining room

  Both Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth had tasted enough of the dinner to know that it was excellent. After all, Cook had gone to the trouble of creating a memorable meal—turtle soup, a salad of fresh greens and ripe pears with roasted and sugared nuts, a prime cut of beef with potatoes, onions and carrots and William’s favorite dessert, pound cake with pineapple-rum sauce. Upon proclaiming the pineapple sauce superb, Elizabeth was told that Pemberley not only boasted a conservatory but also a pinery—a special hot house for growing pineapples.

  “I am amazed at all I do not know about Pemberley, Fitzwilliam. Your home must be a magical place.”

  His expression became solemn as he reached across the table to take her hand and give it a squeeze. “It is our home. And it will be magical now that you are its mistress. I cannot wait to acquaint you with all that I admire about it.”

  Despite the excellent food, neither party seemed to have much of an appetite. In fact, Elizabeth scarcely ate at all, and by the time the last course was served, she had begun to glance surreptitiously at the clock on the mantel. Wishing to ease her mind, William asked that a bottle of his best wine be brought to the library while he escorted her in that direction.

  Once again alone with his wife, William popped the cork on the chilled Constantia 27 and poured a glass for Elizabeth. “I have waited to share this with you, Elizabeth.”

  She gave her husband an angelic smile as he offered her the glass. She swirled the liquor, raised it to smell the aroma and then started to take a sip.

  “Please wait. I wish to make a toast.”

  Pouring himself a drink, he sat next to her on a small settee. Elizabeth seemed mesmerised as he touched her glass with his.

  “To the woman I shall love for all eternity. It was your love, Elizabeth, that made me whole again. I adore you.”

  Overwhelmed by emotion, they each sipped the sweet vintage. Then regaining composure, she touched his glass, declaring tenderly, “To the man I shall love and cherish until I die.”

  As they drank to her toast, their eyes locked over the rims of the glasses and William’s grew shiny with tears. Blinking, he set his glass on a nearby table and took the one from Elizabeth, placing it next to his. He stood and pulled her to her feet, capturing her face in his hands. He kissed her as tenderly as possible, his lips moving over hers as gently as butterflies’ wings, before showering similar soft kisses over the rest of her face. Content for the moment, he quit the kisses to hold her tightly, letting his fingers caress her back in slow, circular motions and causing her to press more intimately against his body. Her deep sighs filled the silence until at length he whispered his deepest thoughts.

  “Words are inadequate to convey the joy that fills me, Elizabeth. You cannot fathom how much I despaired after leaving you in Hertfordshire. That is the closest I have ever come to giving up completely. After I returned to London, I could not sleep or eat for weeks on end. My body ached for love of you. I paced the floors incessantly. I began to sleep in my study or in this library in hopes that my pacing would not awaken the household.” He smiled wryly. “After several glasses of brandy, I still could not sleep, but at least I could imagine the sprite of the Meryton bookshop sitting across from me.”

  “Me? I am a sprite?”

  “You are my sprite.” She closed her eyes as he smoothed an errant curl behind her ear. “I read many a love poem to your phantom.”

  “I have married quite a romantic man,” Elizabeth whispered, her voice rough with emotion. Then standing on tiptoes she brushed his lips with hers. “I treasure that about you.”

  His expression suddenly became sombre. “I have been lonely much of my life, and I worry that my desire for your companionship may weary you.”

  “In time, you will learn that I will never tire of you.”

  “My heart is gratified to hear that.” He kissed her pert nose as his cheerfulness returned. “I have a gift for you.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “How sweet of you, but you do not have to give me presents.”

  “Here is another directive, my love. Do not protest when I give you presents, as it will not deter me in the least. I intend to shower you with gifts as long as I live. Come!”

  Taking her hand, he led her to the far corner of the library where he removed a certain heavy tome off an upper shelf. Behind it, a secret lever was imbedded in the woodwork, and upon pulling it, an entire section of the bookshelf opened to reveal a safe in the wall that was almost as tall as she.

  Unlocking the vault, he pulled it open then reached inside to remove a blue journal from a shelf. “I wished to show you this book. It records the exact point when I began to live again.”

  Elizabeth took the tome and opened the cover. At the top of the page, recorded in a masculine script, was Fitzwilliam Darcy, April 29, 1812. “You wrote this about three weeks after you left Meryton.” Then beginning to read the passage, she added, “This tells of our meeting in the book shop. You are speaking of me.”

  “Yes. You must understand that I was desperate, Elizabeth. So desperate that I thought that by recording my despair, I might purge myself of it. Instead, as I recounted my recollections of you, something began to stir inside me. Something I had not allowed myself to feel in years. It was hope! Hope that there could be more to my wretched life. There could be you.”

  “Oh, Fitzwilliam…” Her voice
faltered as he embraced her, kissing her silky hair as she leaned into him, still clutching the book.

  “I had a history professor who encouraged us to keep journals, arguing that history and our posterity would be better served if we did. So I kept a diary for many years. At some point, I surmised that no one would benefit from reading page after page of misery, so I left off. Besides, by then, having an heir seemed an unattainable dream, and there would be no one to read them.”

  Gently he took the book from Elizabeth, examining it thoughtfully. “Somehow this journal taught me that even sad memoirs can inspire hope.” Then, he looked at her. “I know that, after the early years, my parents did not have a loving marriage. Mother stopped keeping journals by their third anniversary. In view of that, I have a special request of you.”

  He continued eagerly once Elizabeth nodded. “Would you begin a journal for our children and grandchildren? I wish to have at least one story of genuine love and devotion amongst the memoirs at Pemberley.”

  “Yes, our love story!” Tears could no longer be stayed, and this time they rolled down her cheeks unchecked. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, William began to dry her tears.

  “Please do not cry, darling. I did not mean to make you sad today of all days.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, laughing as she replied, “I am not sad, Fitzwilliam. I am happy. You shall have to get used to seeing me cry.”

  With a soft touch, he removed the last tears from her cheeks. “In that case, I shall look forward to making you cry for joy, my love. Now, I promised you a gift.”

  Turning, he laid the journal back in the safe and pulled out a package wrapped in cream-coloured paper and tied with red ribbons. Silently he offered it to her. Taking it, she swiftly pulled the ribbons and opened it to find a red leather journal. Embossed in gold across the front was Elizabeth Rose Darcy.