by Wells, Linda
She said nothing and the pattern moved her back to Creary.
“So, back to this romance of yours, you met two years ago, that is interesting, why have we never heard of you before you turned up at the Matlock ball? That is when the talk began, you know. Of course the rumours were fascinating but quashed by Lady Matlock.” They turned and he glanced at Miss Gannon. “Victoria was crushed, Darcy actually smiled at her. She was sure she was the one.” They stepped away from each other and Elizabeth automatically followed the pattern, but her gaze stayed on her husband. “Then you were engaged, and the stories of his cousin came up.” He chortled. “It has been delicious. Now the questions lie on the speed of your union.”
“What could be wrong about our wedding date?” Elizabeth asked, finally returning her attention to him.
Creary looked at her with a knowing smile. “It was advanced three weeks, my dear.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Sir, are you aware that Pemberley suffered a fire?”
“No.” He frowned. “How devastating was it?”
“Fortunately the damage was limited to the kitchens. My husband travelled there and remained until he was sure that the repairs were underway, then returned to London with the intention that we marry immediately and go back to Pemberley as soon as possible.” She glared at him. “Is that acceptable sir?”
“Why certainly, I would wish to be on the spot as well.” He considered her carefully. “You are angry with me.”
“I am tired of people who have no connection to me judging my or my husband’s intentions.” She said unhappily. “And furthermore, sir, you should not allow outside appearances to influence your opinions of a person.”
“My, you are a feisty little thing.” Creary’s eyes lit up and raked over her. “A woman like you will quickly become bored with a dull stick like Darcy. I was friends with his father; he is cut from the same cloth.” He leaned down. “I know you have to give him his heir, but when that task is complete …” He winked. “I would quite enjoy providing you the company you would undoubtedly appreciate, perhaps we would not have to wait so long, eh?” He squeezed her hand and Elizabeth gasped as the music ended. Creary escorted her towards Darcy, but before a word could be said Stewart arrived to claim her hand.
“Sorry old man, it is my turn.” He grinned and took Elizabeth back out to the line. “At last, I did not think I would ever get my dance with the bride.”
“Pardon?” She whispered and looked back at where Creary was talking to his wife but smiling at her.
“Are you well, Mrs. Darcy?” Stewart asked softly.
“I … I do not know.” She looked down and back up to see his concern and smiled a little. “I … of course, I am fine.”
“I suppose that Creary told you about his niece and their hopes for her and Darcy.”
“You knew this, too?” Elizabeth met Darcy’s burning gaze then looked away.
“Everyone knew.” Stewart smiled. “He actually spoke to her. It was the talk of the ballroom that night.” They swayed and turned, and Elizabeth stared down at her feet. “Mrs. Darcy, you should know that he left almost immediately afterwards, Bingley said something to him and he was gone like a shot.”
“Mr. Bingley?” She whispered.
“Then when you were at the Matlock ball, Miss Gannon stood by Darcy’s side for a good quarter-hour and he never acknowledged her. A bit rude, but of course, he knew that to speak to her would just be fanning the flames. My sister tells me that Miss Gannon was sorely disappointed that he did not pay a call the morning after the dance.” They advanced up the line and waited for their turn again. Stewart saw a war of emotions playing over Elizabeth, and when they came together, he whispered, “He clearly never was really interested in her, he was hoping for you, the resemblance makes that clear.”
“oh.” She looked back to see Darcy watching and relaxed a little. “He is so jealous of you dancing with me.”
“Only fair do you not think? You are jealous of Miss Gannon.” He smiled. “Darcy has nothing to fear from me.”
“No.” Elizabeth finally smiled. “And I have nothing to fear from her. Perhaps she is the girl for you?”
Stewart laughed. “Perhaps she is; there must have been something to her to attract even the slightest bit of Darcy’s attention.” The set ended and he escorted her back to his side. “There you go, Darcy. Take care of her.” He bowed and walked away to approach Miss Gannon.
“What happened out there?” Darcy kissed her hand. “Lord Creary …”
“Is a rude man.” She said positively.
“He is powerful.”
“He is over-confident.”
“What did he say?” Darcy shot a look at his host and back to her. “Elizabeth?”
“It does not matter.” She whispered. “May we go home, please?”
“Did he insult you?” He said in a growl and fixed his steely gaze back on Creary. “No man insults my wife.” He let go and began to move. Elizabeth caught his arm and he stopped, looking back down to her. “Elizabeth, I will not tolerate discourtesy.”
“I am happy to hear that, Fitzwilliam, but it will serve none of us well to start something now. We will be leaving London in a few days, please let it drop.”
“So he did insult you.” He said angrily.
Fitzwilliam appeared at his elbow. “Your mask is slipping Cousin; the room will soon be seeing your fury. What has happened, did Stewart forget himself?” He chuckled and saw Darcy shoot a look at Elizabeth in inquiry.
“No, he was a wonderful gentleman and told me of Miss Gannon.” She watched Darcy’s eyes close.
“There is nothing to tell, Elizabeth.”
“Ah, the infamous dance.” Fitzwilliam smiled. “I am sorry that I was absent that night.” Seeing Elizabeth’s glare focussing on him he coughed. “Ahem, well, if Stewart is not the problem, I would wager it was Creary? And further was he making an offer of … questionable morals?”
She closed her eyes and Darcy’s flew back open to study her. “I will kill him!” He growled. Fitzwilliam grabbed his arm.
“Let it go, he does it to every pretty girl.”
“Every pretty girl is not my wife.” Darcy said through clenched teeth.
Elizabeth put her hand on his chest. “Please Fitzwilliam, take me home. I wish to go home.” Darcy stood still, and stared angrily at Creary. “Please Will?” She said softly and his eyes shifted back to hers.
“Listen to your wife, Cousin. Your reserve of good humour is spent for the evening.” Fitzwilliam let go of his arm and chuckled. “Nobody should even think of crossing you when it comes to Elizabeth, but a ballroom is not the place for an argument with an arrogant peer.”
Darcy nodded and seemed to let down his stance. As soon as his movement was unrestricted though, he quickly turned and began striding across the room to Creary’s side. “I would like a word, sir.” He said in a low tone, meeting the older man’s eye straight on.
Creary’s brow creased. “What is it, man?” He glanced back over Darcy’s shoulder and saw Fitzwilliam watching closely while Elizabeth stood clutching his arm. “Your wife seems ill.”
“My wife is attempting to retain her composure following your offensive behaviour.” He snarled in a low tone. “How dare you treat her as anything less than a lady!”
“She is hardly a peer.” He sniffed.
“Neither am I, however we are both the children of gentlemen.” His voice rose, and heads began to turn.
Creary glanced around, noticing the interest. “Keep your voice down.”
“How long has your family held its estate, sir? Mine was a gift from William the Conqueror.” Seeing that his point was made, he finished in a low growl. “If you insult my wife again in any fashion I assure you, this matter will not be settled with words in a crowded ballroom. I do not care about your age, and your position is meaningless to me. You treated my wife as a common trollop when earlier you crowed over how pleased you were to have our company. Your ball i
s the greatest of the Season? Well, not to the Darcys, not anymore.” He turned and walked back to Elizabeth. “Come my love, it is time to depart this farce.” Creary stared after them, his face colouring after receiving the rare set down.
Lord Matlock stepped by his side and cleared his throat. “Damn fine man my nephew, would you not say, Creary?” He turned and met his eye. “I have no doubt what you suggested to my niece, and you are fortunate that Darcy is not a man of violence. He could take you out in the blink of an eye.” Creary started to protest and Lord Matlock held up his hand. “You are too old and frankly unfit for this foolishness, Creary. You deserve his disdain. I look forward to telling my wife this tale, she will get a good laugh out of it, and I love to hear her laugh. I am sure that her friends will as well.”
Elizabeth took Darcy’s arm and mustering up all of the dignity she had, walked out with her head held high. She remained silent and stiff, just as Darcy did, as they waited on the curb for their carriage. It was not until they climbed inside and the door was firmly shut that she at last collapsed against his chest and began to cry. “I am so sorry.”
“You …dearest you did nothing wrong. It was he who is at fault.” Darcy kissed her and wrapped her up in his arms. “You are wonderful. I love you.”
“I love you.” She looked up to him.
“Will you tell me what was said?” He asked softly and brushed her cheek with his fingers. “Did he suggest …”
“Please Fitzwilliam.” She whispered. “Just know that I will never betray you.” Darcy closed his eyes, his suspicions were confirmed. “Especially with a man who insults my worthiness as your wife while questioning my devotion and your magnetism in nearly the same breath!” Her spirit began to revive in the safety of Darcy’s embrace. “Overbearing old man!”
Darcy’s head tilted. “My magnetism?”
“He suggested that you were dull and I would grow bored with you!” She huffed. “Well, I am too much of a lady to declare it in public, but if you are dull, I doubt that any woman could abide the demonstration from a man who he would term passionate! I realize that I am no expert with these things, but my goodness, Fitzwilliam! You arouse feelings in me that make my heart sing! I can barely breathe after …” Elizabeth’s declaration was silenced by Darcy lifting her up onto his lap and kissing her. When the carriage stopped before their home, the footman wisely did not open the door. Instead he stepped several paces away and turned his back while waiting for his master to appear and hand down his dazed and dishevelled wife.
“Let us finish our discussion inside, my love.” He said quietly.
“I … I believe that you will make your point most effectively.”
“That is my intent.”
Chapter 30
Darcy heard the front door closing and the sound of voices in the hallway, one being the soft tones of his wife. He jumped up from his desk and hurried to meet her. The servants disappeared and they were left alone. Darcy took her hands and peered into her eyes, and saw instantly through the attempt she made to smile. “You are exhausted.”“I am relieved to be home.” She found herself drawn against his chest and gratefully sank into his embrace. “Oh Fitzwilliam it was awful!”
“I am so sorry, dearest. I thought that Alicia going along would help.” He whispered into her hair. “What happened?”
“They were just relentless with questions. Every house that we visited! And it was not cruel or mean; most of them were tolerable in a superior sort of way, but at least accepting of the fact that we were married, but … oh Fitzwilliam, they made no bones of hinting that I am wholly unprepared for my position, and although it was not said, clearly they feel that you made a grave error by choosing me.” She let the tears she had held in check all day to roll down her cheeks. “I … I tried so hard. I smiled and spoke of the subjects Aunt Helen gave me to discuss, but I certainly could offer no opinion about the fashions or the attractions of town, or even of the gossip, especially when gossip about us was a favourite subject, although they all expressed elation at your set down of Lord Creary and surprise with your impressive display of affection towards me. But then there were all of the questions about our courtship and the veiled inquiries about our hopes for children. I feel that I was a failure, and it reflects terribly on you. Perhaps Lord Creary was correct in what he implied last night. I am so sorry Fitzwilliam. I … I will understand if you wish to rid yourself of me.” She ended softly.
“Rid myself?” He said incredulously, then slanting his head down to find her eyes, eventually resorted to lifting her chin up so she would look into his. “Dearest, I am hardly going to tie a rope around your neck and lead you to the public square and auction you off, no matter how poorly you feel that you performed. You are well and truly my wife until the day we are laid to rest at Pemberley.” He gently kissed her lips then kissed away her tears. “I love you for being yourself. Please promise me that you will not ever become like them?” He kissed her again. “Now, I want to hear every detail of your trials. Where shall we go?”
“As long as you are holding me, I do not care.” She whispered and returned her head to his chest. Darcy kissed her hair and hugged her, smiling to have her need his love. “Shall we go upstairs? We can rest for a little while before we have to dress for dinner at the Hurst’s.” He chuckled to hear her groan. “You forgot about the engagement dinner for Miss Bingley and her mysterious Mr. W.?”
“Another woman who wanted you.” She said into his waistcoat. “Is there one unmarried woman who wanted someone other than you in this town?”
“Ah, is that it?” He chuckled. “You faced the disappointed mothers today? Were they lying in wait at the homes of the women you visited?”
Elizabeth drew back and her eyes flashed. “YES! Fitzwilliam, I know that you were quite the catch, but my goodness, were you at all aware of just how desired you were?”
“Yes I was.” He said sheepishly and looked up to see her wide eyes. “I certainly did nothing to encourage them, but first sons are few and far between, and there are more ladies than gentlemen …”
“That Miss Gannon …”
He interrupted quickly. “Was nobody to me, Lizzy, only a pale likeness to the woman I dearly wished to love. I did not even speak to her during our dance.” Tilting his head he was relieved to see her satisfaction with his answer. “Come, upstairs with you.” Darcy took her hand and they began to ascend the steps. “So besides unhappy mothers, did they question anything else of you?”
“It seems that some of them are acquainted with Pemberley, they were friends of your parents and had visited when you were a child.” He nodded as they walked down the hallway towards their rooms. “Their descriptions of the house are far more fantastic than yours. I know that you are not one given to conceit, but tell me, have you perhaps been a little … modest in what I am going to view in a few days? Am I going to faint dead away to see this house appear beyond the trees? I tried to respond by saying that the sight of the estate will be nothing to arriving there as your wife, and that seemed to quiet them.” She saw his eyes warm with some unspoken pleasure and grew frustrated. “Please tell me, are their words true?”
He opened the door to his bedchamber and ushered her inside, then turned the lock. “You have seen the landscape in my study.”
“Fitzwilliam Darcy! Are you telling me that I am to believe these horrible women over you?” Elizabeth’s hands landed on her hips and she stared up at him. “I AM unsuitable! They know it!”
“Elizabeth DARCY!” He said loudly, “Stop this! I would never ever bring a woman who I felt was incapable to Pemberley. You need some confidence in your ability. I have it. Where is yours? Those women are jealous, here you are, not even eighteen, and the mistress of … Well, you will see. Keep in mind that many of those ladies are still waiting for their fathers-in-law to die before their husbands inherit. You already have a higher status than they.” His lips twitched to see her head tilt and a satisfied smile come to her eyes. Nodding, he pulled he
r against his chest and began to apply soft kisses over her face, while his busy hands ran down her gown and began to bunch and pull up the skirt.
Elizabeth attempted to quell the rising tension by becoming sensible. “How exactly do you propose to remove this gown? I cannot possibly change out of this without help.” Darcy let go and walked from the room while she stood with her arms folded and returned a long minute later, barefooted. She heard a door close in the background and then she watched as he silently removed his topcoat and laid it on a chair. “Fitzwilliam?”
Staring straight at her, he unbuttoned his waist coat and removed it as well, then untied his neck cloth, unwound it, then neatly laid it on top. “Ohhhh.” Reaching up, she ran her hands over the bare skin. “Do you know how much I love seeing your neck uncovered?”
“Does it truly please you, dearest?” He whispered and bent his head to nuzzle her throat. She nodded, and barely noticed that his hands were wandering through her hair, working through the carefully arranged curls to methodically remove every comb and pin, until the great swinging mass was at last freed to drop around her shoulders. Stepping back, he admired the sight, then lifting a handful of her heavy tresses; he brought it to his nose for a deep breath. “So lovely.” Turning her around, he pushed the curtain of hair aside, and deftly released the row of tiny buttons on her gown.
“How do you do that? Your hands are so large!” She whispered as he reached her waist then lifted his hands to push the gown down her shoulders so that it dropped to the floor. “Piano lessons.” He smiled. “They made my fingers very nimble.” Gently he caressed his palms over her bare shoulders, and bent to breathe into her ear. “Are you nervous, my love? Surely you are not afraid of me.”
“No … I do not know why I am trembling …”
“Because we are soul mates, do you not feel my body trembling for you?” He turned her back to face him, and lovingly kissed her lips while simultaneously reaching behind to untie her stays. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “Is this uncomfortable?”
