by J Dawn King
By the time he woke again, she had counted the stripes on the two sets of curtains covering the windows, calculated how many dark blue squares were on the pillow cushion of her chair, and measured the length of candle that had burned since it had been lit. Truly, it was one of the longest nights of her life.
During the next few days, the couple had fallen into a routine where Elizabeth wordlessly tended to his needs, and he accepted her care in silence. He had never felt such mortification in his whole life as when, for the first time in his memory, she casually lifted the covers while holding a pan in her other hand. There were a multitude of days yet to be spent in his bed, and he thought not speaking to her during those private times made it easier for both of them.
For the most part, he slept. The first two days after the accident were the worst for pain. There didn’t seem to be enough medication in all of Oregon to ease his misery. Gradually, the laudanum worked to dull the pain so he could sleep restfully with only a few drops at a time. He looked forward to getting rid of the fuzzy feeling he felt when under its influence.
That particular morning, he woke to find John Reynolds in the chair by his bed instead of his wife. He immediately missed her presence and wondered if she had abandoned him.
“Where’s Elizabeth?” He hadn’t meant to sound so irritable, but he was.
“Your bride spends almost as much time outside as you did.”
“It’s raining.” Tilting his head, he could see the raindrops sliding quickly down the window glass.
“That it is.” The foreman was not one to speak on someone else’s personal business. “I do believe you have found you a woman worth her weight in gold.”
Darcy huffed.
“After she made the boys some biscuits and gravy and some of the best applesauce I’ve ever eaten, she hightailed it out to the front porch. The rocking chair overlooking the gorge is her favorite spot. She reads there or writes letters to home, I imagine.”
Darcy was pleased she had found something about Pemberley to enjoy. Being newly married and having to care for him had to have been a challenge. A random thought flickered through his mind. A vision of a yellow-haired woman bending over him had teased his mind for the past several nights. She had not shown her face so he knew not whether it was his mother he was wishing for or Jane Bingley. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Mrs. Bingley had not even written the letters so he couldn’t imagine why he allowed her so much time in his dreams.
His foreman cleared his throat and shifted in the chair.
“What’s on your mind? Just spit it out.” Darcy knew the man as much as he had known his own father. John rarely said much, so when he did, it carried weight.
“Maggie says I talk in my sleep.”
“Hmmm. I’m sorry to hear she has to put up with such trouble from you.” If Darcy’s marriage turned out half as good as the Reynolds’, he would be a happy man. He scratched at the whiskers on his chin. Having Elizabeth shave him would have been too much to ask of her. By the time he was able to get out of his room, he’d appreciate a heavy beard for the winter’s cold.
“Well, the thing is, Will. You talk in your sleep too.”
Darcy thought back to his dream. Had he spoken aloud of the woman?
“You have mentioned a woman named Jane enough times that both Elizabeth and Maggie heard—repeatedly.”
Covering his face with his hands, Darcy groaned. This had to be the worst news a husband who prided himself on being honorable could receive. He deserved Elizabeth’s anger and scorn.
“Maggie told me of her blunder on the first day you brought the missus home. When she apologized to your wife, Elizabeth explained the confusion of the letters and that her sister, Jane, was now wed to Bingley.”
There was no anger or disgust in his foreman’s voice—merely a plain statement of fact.
The hollow in the pit of Darcy’s stomach churned with nausea generated from revulsion at his behavior. “Oh, Lord in heaven. What am I to do to fix this mess I’ve made?”
“I know you aren’t asking me directly,” Mr. Reynolds offered. “Yet, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought.” He scooted the chair a bit closer. “Will, if you think back to all the times your pa showed preference to George Wickham, you will be able to remember how bad you felt at not seeming to measure up, no matter what you did or how hard you tried. “
“The scoundrel!”
“That he is.” Still keeping his voice calm and even, John Reynolds continued, “Now think of this from Elizabeth’s standpoint. Hear tell, Mrs. Bingley is a beautiful woman. Your wife would have grown up in her shadow. To listen to her talk, she loves her sister with her whole heart. She would easily believe everyone else would feel the same.”
The foreman continued. “Like George Darcy, your giving favor to someone other than your own wife, can only be seen as disloyal. The one person who owes allegiance the most is a father and a husband. I’ve been wed a long time, Son, and I said the same vows you uttered only a week ago. The danger of thinking upon a woman other than your wife is serious.”
Darcy again rubbed his hands over his face. “I am not in love with Jane Bingley. After reading her letters, I became fascinated with the woman I thought her to be. Yes, I was disappointed when she took to Bingley like a kid to candy. Then, I was almost sick to my stomach when I found out she hadn’t even penned the words I’d held so dear.”
Darcy swallowed as he gathered his thoughts. “From the first letter, I knew she couldn’t be mine. I originally offered for her sister in hopes that they were two peas in a pod, and I could at least have a wife who was close to being as knowledgeable and full of grace as Jane. Instead of getting someone like I remembered my mother to be, I ended up with Elizabeth—who is in every way opposite to the one woman I held as the best example of womanhood I knew. I have to make myself remember that the letters came from my wife, not her sister. I’ve no clue why I’m so slow on the matter.”
John watched him until Darcy started to squirm on the bed. “I believe you have some thinking to do, Will. And some apologizing and some humble pie eating as well. And speaking of the Bingleys, they came straight away after hearing about your accident. Elizabeth was pleased to welcome them to her home.”
“I imagine she was.” Mr. Gardiner had explained the family’s circumstances enough to know that Pemberley would look like a paradise to any one of the Bennets.
“Now that’s enough of that, young man. Your wife has taken to running this household like a calf to its mama’s teat. My Maggie spent quite a bit of time with Elizabeth and her sister, and she found Mrs. Bingley to be a pleasant woman, though quiet. After the Bingley’s left, my wife was pleased it was Elizabeth who was left in your home.”
“I am sure Bingley is pleased with his bride.” Darcy waited for the bitterness to overtake him, but, other than a little hint of the emotion, to his pleasure, it failed to appear.
“If anything, I believe Bingley’s smile is even bigger.”
“That is good to hear.” Darcy was genuinely happy for his friend. Apparently, unlike his own marriage, there had been little dissension in Bingley’s.
Darcy waved his arms around the bed. “Well, I have plenty of time on my hands to consider my attitude, and I promise I will do so. I’m grateful Elizabeth is settling in fine without me.” He was ready to change the subject. “Now tell me, how have you managed with one hand short in getting the last of the timber in?”
For the first time in almost an hour, the foreman would not look him in the eye.
“What are you not wanting to tell me?”
John hemmed and hawed until Darcy became equally as unsettled. The matter had to be sufficiently serious to disturb someone as tranquil as the foreman.
“Just spit it out.”
“Well, you see…um, early yesterday when I took Elizabeth to town to meet her sister at the café, I saw Bingley, though I didn’t see his wife as she was already inside out of the damp. Your wife is politen
ess itself, but she jumped out of the wagon before it could stop, so anxious was she to commence visiting. While the sisters talked, I picked up the supplies needed for the ranch.” He took a large gulp of air and Darcy’s trepidation increased. “When I returned, your wife was standing with two men she had hired to help out in your place.”
“But you do the hiring. Surely she would not have done something so foolish as to not ask you first.”
“Well,” the foreman rubbed the back of his neck. “You see, I had tried to talk you up a bit about what a hard worker you are—that it would take at least two men to replace you. She thought it a kindness to find those two men to make the load lighter for me.”
“Of all the crazy things to do.”
“Well, actually, that’s not the crazy part.” Again, he hesitated.
“John!”
“Alright. Alright. I’ll just say it.” Uncrossing his legs and dropping his booted foot to the floor, John Reynolds sat erect in the chair. “She hired Bert Denny and George Wickham.”
“Wickham!” Darcy wanted to jump out of bed and grab his rifle. Then he either wanted to shoot George Wickham or hit him over the head with the butt end of the weapon.
“She was just being helpful,” the foreman offered. “And you should know, Elizabeth asked the Fitzwilliams to bring Georgiana back home. They will be here later today.”
“Oh, my word. Say she didn’t, please?”
“I’m afraid so.” John had to know what was coming.
Darcy growled, then told the man to get out of his room.
As soon as John left his bedroom, Darcy wanted him back. He needed to know where Wickham was and whether or not he had told his favorite sob story to garner sympathy from his wife. Would he try to approach his young sister again in another attempt to run off and marry?
Not being able to have the answers he needed caused such inner turmoil that he was almost beside himself with anger. How dare Elizabeth invite that man to Pemberley! She had no right, no authority to do so. A smidgen of reason returned, and he knew she would have had no way to know how dangerous Wickham could be. But she should have known—somehow.
The Bingleys would be leaving to head east before the week was over. It would be a long hard trip, but they needed to collect Miss Caroline Bingley and bring her home. Though the young lady had planned to remain on the East Coast for another year, she had written requesting that her brother fetch her immediately. Jane spoke of the upcoming journey with stars in her eyes, completely forgetting the discomforts they had experienced on their way west. She was also pleased to welcome Charles’ sister and looked forward to having another female in her home for companionship.
Elizabeth was equal parts thrilled for Jane and jealous for her at the same time. There had never been a time in Elizabeth’s life when she didn’t have a sister in her home to talk to, to dream with, and to share confidences. Maggie Reynolds was a wonderful woman who had proven herself diligent in caring for Pemberley. However, she had a husband she hurried home to each night, so she was very much unlike a sister. Elizabeth hoped Georgiana Darcy would fill the void. The Fitzwilliams would be bringing her today. Time would tell if the two would grow close. If the sister was like the brother, Elizabeth would continue to feel alone at Pemberley.
Despite the turmoil and stress inside her home, Elizabeth found peace the instant she stepped out onto the front porch. Sitting in the rocking chair, the back and forth movement soothing her, she could survey the scene with a measure of contentment. Often, Maggie would join her. Today, it was Mr. Wickham who came around the side of the house.
“Mrs. Darcy, it pleases me to no end to see you enjoying the very view I have missed for so many years. Pemberley is one of the finest properties in all of Oregon.”
“I find it as lovely as you say, Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth had been impressed with the man as soon as she met him. He had approached her in the café after Bingley had arrived to collect his wife. Jane had bubbled with happiness in her effusions of married life, and Elizabeth was feeling anything but happy about her own.
George Wickham was a charming conversationalist and almost as handsome as Will Darcy. When Wickham told her how Mr. George Darcy had trained him in every aspect of operating a ranch the size of her new home, she realized the benefit to having him on the property while her husband was laid up. She had hired him and his friend immediately.
“Might I ask, how is Darcy?”
Again, Elizabeth found pleasure in his fine manners and genteel behavior.
“I thank you for asking. He is doing as well as possible under the circumstances.” Elizabeth had always felt discomfort when her own father spoke disrespectfully of her mother, calling her silly and speaking down to her in front of others. Although she did not get along with her new husband, she would not display such disrespect and disloyalty to share that information with others.
“Well, Darcy always had a strong constitution. I doubt he will be able to remain in bed long.”
Elizabeth looked up at him. She had already told him the break in her husband’s leg was serious. Had the man not listened, or was he so overcome by being restored to Pemberley that he spoke without thought? Time would tell.
“Have you settled into the bunkhouse? Is all comfortable for you and Mr. Denny?”
“It’s just like coming home, Mrs. Darcy. Or, can I call you Elizabeth like Reynolds does?”
Elizabeth recognized the boldness of his question. Somehow, she didn’t think her husband would be pleased with the familiarity. That decided her.
“Yes, please call me Elizabeth.” His smile was pleasing, and his countenance open and engaging. “Have you spoken with the foreman yet about the tasks you will be responsible for?”
“There’s plenty of time to see him yet today. He’s with Darcy right now.”
When she stood, he was slow to step back, placing her closer to him than she felt comfortable being. Looking directly into his clear blue eyes, she raised a brow in question. He smiled charmingly and stepped back, allowing her to walk by.
He was cheeky, Elizabeth had to give him that, but so was she. Her countenance lifted at the compliment of his attention, and she returned to care for Darcy with a smile.
“Welcome to Pemberley.” Elizabeth’s first impression of her husband’s cousin was pleasing. Richard Fitzwilliam was equal parts Will Darcy and Charles Bingley. He was as large as his cousin and as friendly as Elizabeth’s brother-in-law.
“You must be the new Mrs. Darcy.”
“Was it by process of elimination you figured that out, or was there a clue helping you reach your conclusion?”
Easy laughter burst from his chest as he stepped inside the house.
“I believe it was the gold band on your wedding finger that gave you away. As a single man in a land with a dearth of unmarried women, it tends to be the first place a man looks when he spots a lovely female.”
“I see, Mr. Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth smiled into eyes as brown as hers. “I am wondering, sir, if you forgot something in your haste to travel to Oregon City. We were expecting Miss Darcy to be in your company today.”
“I am Richard to you, Elizabeth, as we are cousins now, please.”
“Thank you, Richard. In truth, I was not sure which brother you were.”
“As to my young cousin, she came down with a malaise the day we heard of Will’s accident and became more distressed when she realized we would not be able to leave immediately to return her home.”
“Yet, she isn’t here.” Elizabeth puzzled over the type of young lady who was so emotionally fragile that she could not withstand a trip by boat or stagecoach from Portland to Oregon City.
“No, she is not.” He hesitated, which only served to increase her curiosity and a gut feeling that all was not right with Miss Georgiana Darcy. “My mother, who is a strong-willed woman and used to the oversight of her two, as she calls us, rambunctious sons, determined that the best course for Georgie was to keep her away un
til Will has improved considerably.”
Elizabeth put her hand to her chest. “I cannot imagine.” And she could not. Elizabeth could not begin to understand how keeping a sister away from a sibling who was under distress would be beneficial. Nevertheless, she was new to the family and did not yet know all the particulars. With Darcy laid up and uncommunicative, she was likely not to learn for a long time.
“You lucky dog!” Richard walked into his cousin’s room with a smile.
Darcy was pleased to see his closest friend and even more pleased he had left Georgiana in Portland.
“Since most people shoot dogs with a broken leg, I’m not getting your meaning.”
“Your wife, Will. She is quite lovely with a quick wit. Good for you for latching onto her as soon as you were able.”
“My wife hired Denny and Wickham yesterday, and they are here now. That is not the mark of an intelligent woman.”
His cousin stared at him until Darcy started to feel uncomfortable.
Richard raised his hand, his palm facing Darcy, and tilted his head to the side. “I spoke with Reynolds before I came to the main house and he already told me. I’ll see that they are gone before I leave, don’t you worry.”
“Thank you, Rich. I appreciate it.” Darcy hated being powerless, and he hated being confined to his bed when there was work to be done and a ranch to oversee.
“So how is married life treating you?”
“I…I don’t know to be honest.” Darcy rubbed at the stubble on his cheeks. “Elizabeth…she has a way about her that is far different from the women I’ve been around. She has a fierce spirit that refuses to be intimidated, no matter the circumstances.”
“Reynolds says she cooks better than his own wife.”
“I adore Maggie, but anyone cooks better than she does.”
Both men chuckled at the truth.
“And he said she has taken on your care as well as the administration of the ranch. I’d say that’s a pretty special woman you have there, Will.”
