by J Dawn King
“I’ll go, Mrs. Darcy, only because you asked me so nicely. But tell Darcy that I will not forget the way I’ve been treated.”
She nodded, turned, and marched briskly back to the porch. She felt the discomfort of his eyes piercing between her shoulders, and she wished she had not refused the foreman’s presence as she wished George Wickham far away from Pemberley. The instant she put her foot on the first step, Will’s gun discharged. The barrel was aimed at the peach trees. The bullet spun its deadly path towards Wickham. Spinning around, she looked to where they had been standing. He was gone.
“You shot him?” Horror filled her chest and Elizabeth feared her brain would explode.
“No. I did not.” Calmly Darcy leaned the barrel of the rifle against the door frame, then pointed to where Wickham had been. “Although I do believe that big, fat peach about six feet above his head might not have survived. Of course, I was hoping to break the stem so it would drop and make a mess all over him before he fled.”
“Fitzwilliam Darcy!” She couldn’t believe he’d actually pulled the trigger. “Well, I am certain he messed himself, but I doubt it’s his head he’ll need to wash when he gets back to town.” Elizabeth was so relieved, she dropped into the chair next to him and smacked him on his arm. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Darcy giggled—like a girl. Then he burst into laughter, and she knew his mirth was because of her.
“Oh, Lord, that was good.” Using the collar of his robe, he wiped the tears from his eyes and reached over to take her hand in his. He ran his thumb back and forth over hers as if the gentle movements were instinctual. “Of all the things I thought would come out of your mouth, Mrs. Darcy, that absolutely was not it.”
His smile was so beautiful that her heart flip-flopped right in her chest. Her fingers tingled where her skin touched his and she worried sweat would gather in her palm, making the position of their joined hands less than pleasant.
Out of necessity, her hands had traversed every square inch of his body from his toes to the tips of his hair, but this was the first time since he had handed her out of the wagon her first day at Pemberley that he initiated contact with her. She liked the feelings his touch inspired far more than she’d anticipated and wondered at this new aspect of being so close to him.
“Will?” While she hated to disturb his pleasant countenance, Elizabeth needed information to explain what had just happened.
“Yes?”
“While Thomas Gray said that ignorance is bliss, I choose to disagree wholeheartedly with him. Ignorance of a man’s character can lead a woman or a girl to become entangled in something disastrous, and she can be endangered while being completely unaware of the risk. Often it only takes a few facts to help her clearly see her course.” He closed his eyes and she knew he was aware she was speaking of Wickham. “What has happened to cause dissention between you two?”
When he started to pull his hand away, she tightened her grip. Once she felt him relax again, she understood he would finally provide the answers to this conundrum.
“If you asked him, he would tell you I was jealous of the attention my father paid to him—and in many ways, he would not be wrong.”
“Husband, if your father was here, I’d give him a piece of my mind.” She was angry.
He smiled, then his thumb stroked faster on hers.
“Thank you for that.” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “About a year and a half ago, Wickham ran into Georgiana while she was shopping in Portland with Aunt. I don’t know…,” he brushed his free hand through his hair, “it seems like he, at that time, hadn’t sought her out. The meeting was quite by accident as I understand it. By then, Georgie had shot up and was starting to get her womanly form. She was painfully shy and uncertain with all the changes she was going through. She wasn’t yet fifteen.”
He tightened his grip. “Over the next few months, George made sure he would walk by the Fitzwilliam’s house when my sister was sitting on the porch enjoying the spring. Then he would follow her into the bookstore and seek her out. My aunt is not a great reader, so she typically left her there alone until her own purchases were completed elsewhere.” He paused. “Apparently Wickham decided the best way to get ownership of Pemberley was to marry my sister. He pursued her secretly until she believed herself in love.”
“Where was your aunt? Your cousins? How could they have allowed their unprotected family member to venture alone in a city? Fitzwilliam! Responsible parents don’t do that.”
“I was unaware of this at the time.”
“Did it not bother Georgiana that Wickham was older than you, and you are far older than she is?”
“You think I’m old?”
She heard his hesitancy. “Does it matter? Will!” She squeezed his hand hard. “Listen to me, please.” Elizabeth was surprised a man Wickham’s age had pursued someone of such tender years.
“Portland is a busy place and my aunt is constantly flitting here and there. I now know that she wasn’t paying that close of attention to my sister, so, no, she was completely unaware.”
“Oh, no.” Now it was her turn to stroke his thumb with her own. “But she was too young to marry.”
“Not by law.”
“I understand they could have married with permission from family, but who would have given their approval? Certainly you would not, and I can’t imagine Richard would accept their plans either.”
“No, we would not have voluntarily done so.”
“Then they could not have married. While she is a lovely girl who is truly sweet, her features still have the fresh bloom of youth. She looks her age. No Justice of the Peace with eyesight would have thought her old enough.”
Darcy’s grip became firm and his body tense. “Elizabeth, had they…had Wickham…oh, Lord.” He rubbed his whiskers with his right hand. “Had he convinced her to be intimate and there were consequences, there would have been nothing else we could have done except allow a wedding.”
Elizabeth’s inhale pressed her against the back of the chair. “Oh, no. Oh, No! Oh, NO!”
“I happened to travel to Portland on business and desired nothing more than to see Georgie. You can imagine my surprise when she shared the joy of her heart’s attachment to George Wickham. He had convinced her that, as a longtime family friend, I would be pleased with their courtship and happy when they wed. Especially since, according to him and apparently her as well, I didn’t truly want her at Pemberley.”
“Oh, my!” She could think of nothing else to say. Her pulse pounded to the point it was all she could hear, and a sick feeling churned in her stomach. “Oh, no! Did he?”
“No, thank God!”
“I can’t imagine. Poor girl.”
“Since they hadn’t expected my arrival, she was prepared to meet him at the back of the bookstore for a picnic he had planned in a secluded spot by the river. Even though she didn’t realize what was bound to happen, I knew.” Darcy shuddered and Elizabeth tightened her grip.
“Did you tell her? Will, please tell me you told her the truth about his nefarious plans.”
“I did not.” Darcy sighed. “I told Richard and my aunt so they could keep Wickham from her. Then I met him behind the store. I thought I’d made my displeasure known, and told him never to attempt to see Georgiana or come to Pemberley at the risk of his own safety.”
Elizabeth released his hand and threw both of hers into the air.
“Do you see what I mean? Ignorance is not bliss.” She stood and marched down the porch steps, turned and marched back up. Sitting back in the chair, she pondered what she’d learned. It distressed her that she had inadvertently invited such a vile man to their home, putting Georgiana at risk. “I wish I had known.”
She could see his frustration and knew it was with himself. “How could you? There was no priority to share that particular information with you while I laid in bed that first week. Trust me, I had plenty of other things on my mind when I was even able to think clearly.”
&nb
sp; “But you said nothing since. Will, I can’t help but wonder if there’s anything else you haven’t shared that I ought to know.”
He reached back over and took her hand. This time she felt solidarity.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ll try not to keep anything from you if you ask. I can see how my keeping this to myself was misplaced protection.”
“So you weren’t just trying to be bossy and in control?”
He chuckled. “No, I wasn’t.”
She rocked back in the chair, his hand sliding back and forth with hers.
“I appreciate your reassurance,” she chuckled softly. “Since you are being so verbose, I’m wondering why you have not hired help for Maggie before now? The thought of her cooking and cleaning for you four men boggles my mind.”
He appeared relieved at the sudden change of topic. “Simply, there was no one to hire. Each time a woman came into town, she was quickly snapped up by someone who had their own property. And it hasn’t been terribly hard for Maggie. We tended to wear the same clothing for a period of time as there wasn’t a woman here to complain about our smell. I purchased canned goods in bulk at the mercantile. Our fruit and vegetables in the orchard and garden tended to fall to waste. Obviously, it wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was what worked. Melvin loves to garden. He uses his evenings and free day to plow and nurture, while Dan loves to hunt and fish.” Darcy moved their joined hands to the arm of his wheelchair. “There is more ready work and housing in Portland so few want to move upriver to the Willamette now. While there is still land available, most can’t afford the filing fee or the expense of setting up housing on acreage this far from town where there are no roads and no help to build.”
“Is that why John and Maggie didn’t build on their property?”
“No. Their circumstances were different.” Darcy’s brow furrowed. “They had 640 acres of prime forestland with an adequate water supply and plenty of level ground. They had built a small rough cottage so they could stay the years needed to satisfy the government that they were homesteading the land grant. Their plans were to expand and build onto their home when babies came. That first year, the weather was fierce. Too much rain and snow in the winter and no rain and soaring temperatures in the summer. For Maggie’s protection from the elements they accepted an offer of temporary housing in the cabin here. They never left.”
“No children.”
“No, there were none.”
“I see.” She looked down at her lap, sadness for the Reynolds’ filling her soul. “Do you want a large family, Will?”
Speaking of something so personal while seated next to him, her hand in his, flushed her cheeks and caused her heart to pound. She was afraid to look at him to see his reaction.
“I want a happy home.”
“Then we are finding something to agree upon.” It was the perfect answer.
“Are you happy, Elizabeth? I mean, do you see the potential for happiness between you and me in the future?” He waved at his leg and she watched the movement of his hand.
Pausing to consider her reply, she realized that everything about her marriage other than her husband was pleasing to her. She didn’t mind hard work, especially when she saw the immediate benefit to others. But she missed the freedoms of having time to herself to read, take long walks, and enjoy being alone. The few minutes she was able to spend on the porch were not enough.
A thought occurred which immediately excited her.
“Will, do you remember the family with the two sets of twins who disembarked at the same time I did?” She blushed again at the remembrance of the first impression she made, her clothes sopping wet and her hat and hair askew.
“I recall very little about that day.”
The redness in his cheeks belied his claim, though she was pleased he was being cautious with his speech.
“We traveled from the East Coast with them and found them to be exceedingly pleasant. They had saved to purchase some acreage, but if the only property available is distant, they might need a place to live. I’m concerned about them.” And she was. They had not been able to afford accommodations at the Occidental in San Francisco and watched every penny as they shopped in China Town. They had packed a large hamper of food for the travels so little money was spent at the train stops.
He answered. “The bunkhouse is divided into two parts. If you would like to have John invite the family here until they settle, you are more than welcome… if you do not think all those children wouldn’t get in your way. If they would be willing to help on the ranch, I’d pay them a wage and provide their lodgings.”
“Would you?” Who was this man? She had expected him to be belligerent when she’d asked to go see Wickham alone. Instead, even though he’d had to practically swallow his tongue, he’d acceded to her desire after she explained that she doubted Wickham would show himself with the foreman visible. Her willingness to have John, Dan, and Melvin hidden in the area before Wickham’s arrival had seemed to make it easier for him to agree.
During the whole of their acquaintance, from the first moment she’d set eyes on his disapproving, disdainful countenance at the docks, she could never have imagined the freeness of speech they were sharing on the porch. She liked it. A lot.
“If it would please you and provide assistance during the ranch’s busiest time of the year, then, yes, I’d agree to host them here. However, do not get your hopes up, Elizabeth. We are not the only family who could use hired hands. They may already have found a situation that works for them.”
“I thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “I had asked you if you were happy here, and you did not respond.”
“I didn’t, did I?” She sighed. “You’ve asked a question that is not easy to answer. Even though I was busy in Baltimore helping my family with the same tasks I’m doing here, I certainly was not as busy. I’ve had so little time that I feel I’ve lost myself.”
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled at him. “There you go again—apologizing.” She untangled her fingers from his and patted the top of his hand. “I’ve a reputation in my family for being stubbornly independent, quick to display my temper, and quick to judge. I fear I still have those tendencies, and you, sir, have been my target of choice. Nonetheless, my worry about your health, my future, learning what I need to manage your home properly, and the shear abundance of tasks that greet me each day, has allowed tiredness to creep in and soften my worst characteristics. I fear that an improvement in your situation, a reduction in needing to perform these tasks, and more time to think and ponder, will return me to unrestrained fits of anger and belligerence that you will not welcome.”
Elizabeth bravely looked to see his disgust. No wonder he’d been so attracted to her sister. She had none of those flaws, and apparently Georgiana had none of them either. Except it wasn’t abhorrence she was seeing. Rather, he was grinning from ear to ear.
“What is the matter with you?” she quizzed him, her brow raised. “You shouldn’t be so pleased.”
Again he laughed, and she wanted to keep him doing so for the rest of their lives.
“You amaze me, Elizabeth Darcy. There’s not a woman I know, not that I know many, who would be so honest about herself. Every day that passes, I am more and more pleased you are the woman who stood beside me at the Justice of the Peace. Do not think I’ve failed to notice your hard work and your tender care of me and my sister. I’ve come to value your opinions and hope I don’t fall back into selfishly disregarding them in the days ahead.”
“Thank you, Will. That’s good to hear.” She again clasped his hand. “I look forward to when you are able to stand on both legs and walk through the trees with me. I miss taking long walks. I don’t even mind doing so in the rain.”
“I ask you not to go alone.” He shook his head when she started to speak. “If you do, take a pistol. We have bears aplenty in these woods and other varmints who could bring you harm.”
His requ
est was reasonable. “Very well. I will have you know that had I tried to dislodge that peach with your rifle, I would have hit it bullseye and Wickham would have worn the fruit in his hair all the way back to town.”
Surprised, he asked. “You know how to fire a gun?”
She again patted the back of his hand and rose to reenter the house.
“Not at all.” Smiling, she whisked her skirt to the side and walked through the door, his laughter following her all the way to her room.
Later, when the house was settled, Elizabeth sat in front of the vanity to brush out her hair. One of her favorite things about Pemberley was the showering room. Having sun-warmed water stream over her, washing the perspiration and dust of the day from her head to her toes, was refreshing. Remembering sharing bath water with her sisters made her enjoyment all the more pleasurable.
It had been quite a day. Drawing closer to both Georgiana and Will had been a challenge, and she felt like she had only taken baby steps towards her goal of a happy home life. Hearing her husband laugh and seeing him being comfortable in her presence was more than she could have hoped for on their wedding day. Hearing his words of appreciation nourished her starving heart. And, his hands…his touch…she sighed, looking at her image in the mirror. The dreamy look in his eyes was a perfect reflection of the small seed of affection growing in her heart. Would it continue to flourish or would his unthinking words and her quick temper lop it off at the roots? She knew what she wanted, but she also knew herself—and Will.
His expression of being happier each day they were married excited her to her bones. What woman didn’t want to hear this from her mate? She had no clue he felt that way. No clue at all. She snorted! Who was she to know his mind? They truly knew so little about each other.
Yet this was the fate of all mail-order couples, this coming together, taking vows before man and God to live together until death parted them. Over the years, both she and her sister had heard rumors and reports of occasions where the woman had been put in peril, where one or the other of the couple—or sometimes both of them—had been less than honest about their looks, circumstances, or character. Will had promised her nothing before she’d accepted him. She had allowed herself to be romanced by Bingley’s letters into accepting a situation unknown to her. Hoping Bingley’s friend was much like the man who authored the missives, Elizabeth had tied her name to Darcy’s before she’d ever seen him. Finding out he’d written the letters had been a shock. Remembering that he’d been responsible for each winsome word was a challenge.
