by Wells, Linda
“Thank the Lord.” He muttered.
“Why?” Elizabeth demanded.
“Because if it was London, we would have a hundred people witnessing your petulance instead of five.” He pointed at the stable door. Elizabeth spun to look in time to spot men disappearing. Mortified, she turned away.
“You see?”
“I am not petulant, Mr. Darcy. I am angry. If you do not know the difference now, I guarantee that you will before the day is over.” Turning on her heel, she started walking.
“Where are you going?” He demanded.
“What difference does it make to you?”
“I am your husband!”
“And this is supposed to be our honeymoon.” She said icily. “You have spent how many hours pouring over letters and figures for other estates. You are taking on far too much!”
“I am not ignoring you, Elizabeth.” Darcy said evenly.
“I did not say you were. You are not sleeping. You toss and turn.”
“I have much on my mind.”
“And I do not?” She waved her crumpled letter.
“I did not suggest that at all.” He strode up and stared down at her upturned face. “I apologize if you feel abandoned …”
Elizabeth balled up her fists and groaned. “Ohhhhhhhh! You just do not understand at all!”
Taking off his hat, he ran his hand through his hair and pressed it back on. “What do I not understand? Elizabeth, I cannot read your thoughts! I wish to God that I could, but I cannot. Make me understand.”
She poked her finger into his chest. “You are so busy worrying about everyone else in the world that you are not taking care of yourself. We are here to relax as much as possible given everything that is happening around us. I am angry with you because you will make yourself ill if you continue as you are. I know that you love riding, it makes you … oh heavens it makes you so incredibly attractive …” Darcy’s jaw dropped. “You are so confident and so happy …”
“I … thank you.” His colour heightened.
“You will no longer share this part of you with me?” Her eyes expressed her hurt and worry.
“No, no, love.” He assured her and searched his mind for the words he needed, and failing, waved his hand, “I … I have always wanted to share myself with you, and … and no other.”
“I understand that work must be done and some of your time must be devoted to it, but in the last weeks you have seemingly chained yourself to your desk or to Mr. Ferguson. That man has operated this estate quite well by your direction and letters for years …”
“He only became steward recently, his predecessor …”
“I do not care, Fitzwilliam, we are talking about you.” Shaking her head, she walked away from him. “You are withdrawing from me. Just as you did at Pemberley over Christmas. Embraces and kisses are wonderful, but …” She hung her head and crossed her arms protectively. “You touch me as if I am glass, if you touch me at all.” Wiping her eyes, she did not see his hands come together to twist his ring. “I am not a strumpet, please do not think I am by asking … I … miss you …” She wiped her eyes again. “I miss you coming into me. I need to feel you so much. I need …” She started to cry. “I feel enough guilt from my sister’s letters, now must I feel rejection from you, too?”
“Oh Lord, Lizzy …” Darcy breathed and in two steps he had her encircled in his deep embrace. “I want to join with you so badly. I need you, too.”
“Then what is wrong with me?” She whispered against his pounding heart. “It is such a beautiful warm day, I thought … I thought that we could … find some secluded spot on the beach and listen to the roar of the waves while we … or , or, find some tall grass in a meadow … and make a wish of yours come true.”
“Oh, sweet love.” He kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly. It is not about me, it is about both of us.
“Are you afraid of my becoming with child? Is that why you withdrew from me?” She whispered and hugged him tighter. “I know of ways to prevent pregnancy if you want to delay …”
“No, no, love, I do not want that.” Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he sighed. “I … you will think me an utter idiot.”
“I already do, Will. Please tell me why …”
“You … you have not behaved as a lady in so long …”
Elizabeth stiffened, “Pardon?”
“You spoke of wanting chocolate … you have not wanted chocolate since you last … had your courses and I … I …” His eyes squeezed shut. Elizabeth looked up at him. “Are you with child now, dearest?” His eyes opened to see her staring at him.
“You believe me to be pregnant?” He nodded as she stared. “This is why you will not ride? This is why you tire yourself … why you shut yourself away from me, because …”
“I find it extremely difficult to resist you. Lovemaking should be avoided when the woman is pregnant. It might hurt both mother and child.”
“Who told you that?” Elizabeth demanded.
Embarrassed he stiffened, “It is common knowledge!”
“If that was the case, I think most of the male population would be spending their time battling problems associated with … unhappy testicles.”
Darcy’s mouth dropped open and he searched for something intelligent to say, and failed. “Unhappy testicles? Elizabeth blushed and he beamed. “Oh … Oh, I must remember that.”
“Hush!”
“No!” He laughed and kissed her. “I will not touch the subject of my … emotionally challenged bollocks …” Elizabeth’s blush deepened. “I … I just … could you be with child? You are so weepy, and …”
“I wanted chocolate. Clearly the most definitive marker of pregnancy.” Finally regaining her confidence, she looked him in the eye. “You are an utter fool.”
“No more so than you, but I do have some reason to suspect?”
“Of course you do, but … Fitzwilliam, if you were receiving letters like this one I have from Jane, you would be weepy and miserable, too.”
“I have no doubt that our sister managed to inject a healthy dose of guilt into her letter, intentionally or not, but it does not explain why, since February, you have not …”
“Been a lady.” She raised her brow.
“Forgive me that.”
“I will consider it.”
“Well?”
“I honestly do not know, Will.” He sighed and hugged her to him. “But may I point out that we have certainly loved each other quite a few times until a fortnight ago when this idea occurred to you. And somehow I am well.”
Darcy nibbled on her ear. “I am a stupid fool.”
“Yes, you are.”
“And so are you.”
“Why?” She tried to look at him but he kept the grip tight.
“You are carrying around this unspoken guilt for not being at Longbourn and it is pressing on you. You are not the only one who tosses and turns at night.” She sighed and leaned into him. “Richard will soon be here. He can watch after Georgiana. Would you like to go to Hertfordshire?”
“You … you would endure that journey and then a visit to Longbourn for me?”
“Yes, of course, love.” He kissed her gently and looked into her eyes. “Of course.”
Reaching up to caress his face, she shook her head at him. “You are a conundrum, Mr. Darcy.”
“Does that mean we are going?”
“No, it means we are staying.”
“But …”
“I think that all I needed to hear was … that I could go.”
“Sommerwald is not a gilded cage, love.” Darcy lifted his hands to hold her face, and stroking her cheeks with his thumbs, smiled a little. “I want to keep you safe and happy, and I know that you want the same for me.”
The sound of a horse approaching made them turn. A man with a bag slung over his shoulders leapt off and was knocking on the front door. Parker opened it and after a brief wait, he returned with a small purse. They watched
as some money was pressed into the man’s hand and from his satchel, two letters bordered with black were withdrawn and handed over. Parker looked across the yard to where they stood and saw Darcy’s head shake. Wordlessly, he bowed, closing the door behind him.
“Papa.” Elizabeth gasped with her hand to her mouth. Immediately she turned and hid her face against Darcy’s chest. He closed his eyes and held her close, rubbing her back while she sobbed. “He is gone. He has been gone for days, he has been gone a week …”
“His suffering is over.” Darcy whispered. “I am happy for him.”
“I have been readying myself for this for so long.” She sniffed and swallowed, holding him tighter than ever. “I have been anticipating and dreading this for so long.”
“Your stubbornness comes from somewhere, he went in his own time.” He looked down to her and asked gently, “Would you like to go and read the letters now? Shall I open them for you?”
She remained quiet, absorbing the news and all that it meant until at last she looked up. “No. I know what they say. The details do not matter. He is gone, and I am here.” She drew a breath and touched his face. “I am here.” Darcy’s eyes held hers and feeling his encompassing strength, she drew herself up. “I … I want to go riding. With you.”
“Very well.” Darcy used his handkerchief to daub away the tears. “Shall you take your strumpet of a mare?”
“Only if you take your gentleman stallion.” She gave him a watery smile and holding hands, they walked towards the stable until she started to sob again. He stopped and pulled her securely into his arms, and rocking her slowly, he hummed the gentle tune from their first dance together. “Oh, Will.” She looked up at him and saw tears tracking down his cheeks.
“I love you,” he kissed her tenderly, “Elizabeth Darcy.”
Chapter 11
Darcy buttoned his waistcoat and leaving the dressing room, tilted his head as he looked into the bed, trying to see in the half-light if Elizabeth remained within the pile of covers somewhere. “Lizzy?” He lifted the comforter. “Ah love, you were supposed to rest.” Walking into the adjoining chambers, he heard her voice.
“How much longer?”
“Just one more minute, Mrs. Darcy.” Judy assured her.
Curious, Darcy peeked inside the door. “Elizabeth Darcy, what on earth are you doing?” Elizabeth sat up, nearly knocking over Judy, and two sodden brown bags fell into her lap. “Ow!” She cried as the tea stung her eyes.
“What happened?” Darcy stepped quickly into the room while Judy hurried to find her a cold cloth.
“Oh, Will!” She wailed and looked into the mirror at her bloodshot eyes.
He stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “I ruined something.”
“No.” She said softly.
“No, not at all. Look Mrs. Darcy, see?” Judy lightly touched under eyes. “The puffiness is gone.”
“It is?” She looked in the mirror and up at Darcy. “Is it?”
“Yes, love.” He smiled and laughed softly. “This was a beauty regimen?”
“It was for you.”
“Oh, Lizzy.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “You are lovely. What were you trying to repair?”
“You left the bed and I could feel how tired my eyes were.” She sighed and picked up the teabags. “I wanted to look better for you. After all, you have to stare at me all day.”
“Elizabeth, you spent last night …” He stopped. “They look beautiful, and not at all red.” He caressed his fingers through her hair and leaned in to kiss her softly. “You hardly slept, I expected you to remain in bed.”
“No, it is time to move forward.” She closed her eyes. “I said my goodbyes long ago.”
“Dearest, you do not have to complete your mourning in a day. Would you like to return to bed?”
Her eyes opened and they flashed. “I am not my mother!”
“Thank the Lord for that.” Smiling, he hugged her. “Very well, then. I expect to see you dressed and at the breakfast table in … a quarter hour.” He pulled out his pocket watch and set the chronograph, tapped the dial meaningfully, and stepped to the door. “We are riding to the sea, my dear. Dress appropriately.”
He disappeared and Elizabeth looked at Judy and then to the black gown laid out on a chair. “I wonder if he saw that.”
“How could he possibly miss it, Mrs. Darcy?” Judy picked it up and shook out the wrinkles.
“I will rephrase that. I wonder if he was commenting on my wearing it.” Elizabeth opened the black-bordered letter that lay on her dressing table and read again the message Jane had enclosed from her father.
A day of mourning, I expect. A week would be kind. A fortnight would be a surprise. A month, an honour. Beyond that would be an unnecessary waste and my last wish is that it not be done at all or you shall face the very real possibility that I will return to disrupt your peace. I have thought on this a great deal, Lizzy. I see no reason for you, living so far away, to suffer in black. You have done enough of it already, knowing what you do. Your good husband deserves the jewel of Hertfordshire, not a lump of coal. Go on about your life, there are sure to be enough wailing women filling Longbourn to satisfy my ghost.
TYING OFF THE HORSES, Darcy walked towards the secluded spot where Elizabeth stood looking out at the sea. He paused, watching the wind pick up her skirt, filling it with the heavy salty air as it billowed and blew around her. She was standing in her familiar posture of self-protection with her arms wrapped around her chest as she watched the waves roll in, lap up over the sand, and gurgling softly, retreat into the vast green sea again. The unforgiving black of her costume seemed unnatural against the bright blue sky and the verdant grass at her feet. Quietly he approached, and slipped his arms around her waist.
“Papa never saw this. All he knew of the ocean was from his books.” Elizabeth said softly. “He hated to leave home.”
Darcy nodded as he considered the water stretching out before them. “I can understand that. But I cannot imagine giving back the memories of the places I have been, no matter the difficulty of travelling there.”
“So it is a choice as much as it is an opportunity.”
“If one has the means, yes.” He smiled and kissed her cheek. “And you have both, as did he.” Gently, he tugged her arms free and as she relaxed back into his embrace, he laced his fingers over hers. “Your father had many choices in his life, just as we all do.”
“I chose to defy him.”
“No doubt more than once, knowing you. You defy him now, wearing this dress, do you not? Go on, admit it.” Elizabeth looked up and saw the hint of a twinkle in his eye. “How old were you the first time that you defied your father?”
“The first moment that I took breath, I think. I defied him by being born a girl.” She smiled when he laughed. “And thus it grew from there.”
“I sometimes wonder what you were like as a child. I suppose I will find out one day when our first girl graces our lives.”
“You will be hopeless.” She said knowingly.
“Why do you say that? What kind of a father do your imagine me being?” Turning her around, he smiled down into her eyes. “I am not one to be moulded like clay.” Elizabeth’s hand went to her mouth to cover a most unladylike snort. “Dearest, as easy as you think I am, I would never have allowed your magic to be worked upon me if I was not a willing and admittedly eager participant.” He took her hand away from her mouth and kissed her none-too gently. “So chew on that, Mrs. Darcy.”
She considered him. “You are stubborn.”
“I am.”
“You are displaying that streak now. You are not allowing me to wallow in sadness and guilt.”
“Have I mentioned that I am selfish as well?” His head tilted.
“There was no need to; I can spot a selfish man a mile away. After all, I was raised by a prime example.” Elizabeth caressed his cheek, and traced over the scar. “But your selfishness is of a different sort than his. He wanted eve
rything to be about his comfort and amusement. Yours is … harder to describe.” Darcy looked at her quizzically and began to speak when she put her fingers over his lips. “Please allow me to finish, Mr. Darcy.”
He kissed her fingertips and waved his hand, “Pray continue.”
She glanced up at him and back out to the water. “I was just going to say that your selfishness is of a man wishing to comfort and care for everyone you love.” Her eyes brightened as his softened. “When I thought that you had died …” She drew a shaking breath and he held her tightly to his chest.
“Shhhh. I am right here, dearest.” Darcy said softly against her bonnet.
“Will, it was as if my heart had stopped beating, and the breath had been stolen from my lungs.”
“And your stubbornness saved me.” He reminded her.
Elizabeth closed her eyes as he rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders. “When I knew that Papa had died … I felt a flutter in my stomach, I felt terrible sadness, but I … I felt that I had said goodbye.”
“You had, love. You have been in mourning since you left him at Longbourn. Your dress is the only thing that has changed, well, that and confirmation of the inevitable.” They looked at each other and he lifted her chin to kiss her again.
“Will I feel the same when my mother dies? Or if any of my sisters die? We are so far apart now. Does distance change the ties that bind?”
Considering the question, he shook his head. “I do not know. Your relationship with your father was damaged because you discovered that the man you trusted implicitly was willing to trade your happiness for his ease. I think that to survive that pain, you had to close off some of your feelings for him. But your display of sadness makes it clear that at one time, you were very close to him. I am grateful for that, since whatever he did do for you, besides giving you life, made you the woman I wanted to love. For that I will always show him respect.”
She read the love in his eyes. “When your father died, it came out of the clear blue sky.”
“Yes, and I was overwhelmed, utterly, and devastated.”
“And you watched it happen. So it was absolutely true.”
“Do you doubt your father’s passing?” He smiled a little and caressed her cheek.
