An Unwavering Trust

by L. L. Diamond

  “Elizabeth, I was teasing.”

  “But you did not have to laugh.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. “You had a fright as well, and I have been unable to coddle you.”

  “I am quite recovered from the scare; I assure you.” Her insult from their amusement was disappearing by the minute. A part of her was frustrated she could not remain angry, but the other did indeed want him to cosset her.

  “Please do not be upset with me.”

  “I am not upset with you. I am more annoyed with myself.” His eyebrows furrowed, and she slipped her arms around his torso. “I did not heed your request and wait for you. If I had, this might not have happened.”

  Her husband put his finger under her chin and lifted her head. She raised her eyes to meet his, and his steady gaze comforted her. “The snake would not have gone too far in such a short amount of time. Page would have likely still espied it and reacted in the same manner, only Homer might have spooked as well. If that had happened, you could have been trampled when you fell.”

  “I had not thought of it in such a way.”

  “You have not been on a horse much in the last year, and I was hoping to keep you safe. When I came around those trees, I saw him rear twice before you fell. You managed him well, and you were attempting to bring him under control. No seasoned rider could have brought him around with a snake at his feet.

  “You are in earnest?”

  His eyes showed no humour, no sign he was placating her.

  “Yes! I am amazed you stayed in the seat as well as you did riding side-saddle. Many women would have fallen the first time he reared.”

  “Well, men have an unfair advantage by riding astride.”

  “We do, but I would not want Johns and the men in the stable to see you in breeches. That is for my eyes only.” Her face heated, and he took her hand, pulling her towards the house. “We should return and allow you to bathe and change. Are you sure you do not require a doctor?”

  “I am well. I may be sore for a few days, and I will probably have a lovely bruise.”

  “I am anxious to tell Richard. He will be impressed.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Was her effort truly worth such praise? She tilted her head to the side, catching his eye. “Will he? Even though I fell?”

  “Do not let him fool you. Even Richard has taken spills, and some of those tumbles were quite impressive.” Fitzwilliam regaled her with several stories of his and Richard’s, escapades around Pemberley until they reached the front door where they entered to find Richard himself preparing to exit.

  “Darcy?” His eyes shifted from Fitzwilliam to Elizabeth. “Lizzy? I was just informed your horse returned to the stable without you. I was about to ride out to see if you required help.”

  “I am well, Richard, thank you.” Despite her initial jealousy, which she confessed with ease after their encounter in the library, she and Richard had become fast friends and on familiar terms within the first few days of his arrival. “Page and I had a run in with an adder whilst we were riding in the trees.”

  Richard’s eyes widened, and he glanced to his cousin as if verifying the story.

  “Elizabeth was quite impressive. Page reared twice and stomped the snake, before he unseated her the last time he reared.”

  “Was he bitten? They can make a horse’s leg swell significantly.”

  “Johns and Fitzwilliam both examined his legs and could not find evidence of any bites. Johns wants to watch him for the next few days to ensure he is sound.”

  Richard had a thoughtful expression while he nodded. “Johns has always been excellent with horses. I am glad you were able to steal him away from your father.”

  Darcy studied his cousin with a puzzled expression. “My father let him go without reference, and I asked him to come to Sagemore. I thought you would be aware of what happened. Your father and Huntley knew of the incident. I think you were at a training of some kind at the time.”

  “I do not think they ever told me.”

  “Wickham set Johns up as retribution for helping me. He took to sneaking in the stables at night and opening stalls so the horses would get out. One of his last escapades killed father’s favourite stallion.”

  Richard’s eyes bulged. “And you did not tell your father, did you?”

  “We had no proof! I was visiting Pemberley for the summer to see Georgie when this happened. I went out every night for the last month Johns worked there to help ensure everything was locked as it should be. We still do not know how he got inside.”

  “It was lucky you could take him on here.”

  “I never liked my uncle’s stable master. Johns returned with me, and I let the other go. I do not think he cared for me either because he seemed relieved to be leaving. He never could appreciate my involvement with the horses. He did not like capitulating to me when we disagreed.”

  “Fitzwilliam,” she interrupted. “I wish to go to my rooms to refresh myself.” She looked to Richard and gave a small smile. “If you will excuse me.”

  She had taken no more than a step or two before Fitzwilliam reached forward and grabbed her hand. “Richard, I want to ensure Elizabeth is well.”

  With a grin, Richard waved him off. “Go take care of your wife. I can fend for myself.”

  “You can stay and talk with your cousin if you like. I do not mind.”

  Her husband shook his head and placed a hand on the small of her back pressing her forward. “But I wish to go with you.”

  He ushered her up the stairs to their rooms, where he closed the door behind them. She removed her riding jacket, and his fingers went to work on the buttons down the back of her gown. When she was divested of everything but her chemise, he began to lift her skirt, but she halted his movement with a firm grasp of his forearm.

  “What are you about?” They had both been nude before each other quite often in the past six weeks but there was rarely much light, and he had never seen her from behind.

  “I want to be certain a bruise is the worst of your injury.” He smiled rakishly as he gave her slip a small tug. “I bet your rear will be just handsome with all of those colours.”

  She shook her head vehemently and attempted to turn in his arms. “No.”

  His eyebrows furrowed, and he took her by the shoulders, which prevented her escape to her dressing room.

  “What is it, Elizabeth?”

  She avoided his steady gaze until he cradled her cheek with his hand and shifted her face until her eyes met his. “We promised no more concealment. Do you not remember?”

  Her vision clouded with tears, so she averted her eyes, feigning interest in something on his cravat as her fingers fiddled with the folds. “I do not want you to see the scars.”

  “My love,” he said gently. “I saw your scars for the first time the day after we were wed.”

  Her head shot up and he laughed. “How?”

  “Your shift had ridden up around the tops of your thighs, and I could not help but notice when I attempted to see if you were awake.”

  “Oh.” Her brow furrowed and she tilted her head. “All you have seen so far is my thigh?”

  “I do know there is scarring on your buttock, but I was not about to lift your shift—despite how much I would have enjoyed the view. I would never violate your trust in such a manner.”

  She wrapped her arms around his chest. “I would have been horrified to find you peeking then. Now, I would not care—unless you were trying to see where I was injured.”

  He kissed her temple and angled his head to speak near her ear. “But those blemishes do not matter. I find everything about you stunning.”

  “My scars are not attractive,” she stated frankly.

  “They are a part of you, and that makes them attractive.”

  She rolled her eyes as she giggled. “You are wilfully blind, Mr. Darcy.”

  “You have a kind and generous heart, which is beautiful. I have received compliments on how luck
y I am to have found such a handsome wife, so you are lovely.” He took her face in his hands and gazed at her with imploring eyes. “Do you not see? The scars you carry may mar your skin, but they do not detract from you. They do not make you any less beautiful—especially to my eyes.”

  A wet tear cooled the swell of her cheek, and he skimmed it away with his thumb. She had felt loved by her family and friends her entire life, but she had never felt as loved and accepted as she did with Fitzwilliam.

  She stood on her tiptoes, and brushed her lips against his. He eagerly reciprocated her kiss as his arms shifted to wrap around her body. He appeared puzzled, when after a few minutes, she drew back from the warmth of his arms.

  Her fingers worked the pink ribbon of her chemise, releasing the tie that held the front together. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she could not control the slight tremor of her hands, yet somehow, she loosened the knots.

  As she turned away from her husband, she glanced over her shoulder to find herself the subject of his intense stare. The gaze was familiar. She had seen it often since they had become intimate. He was definitely not looking to find fault.

  She took a deep breath, pushed the straps from her shoulders, and then worked it from the remainder of her body. Her eyes closed as she waited for a reaction, but there was nothing for a moment. Her husband’s hands found her waist as his breath caressed her ear.

  “Lie down on the bed, so I can see it better.”

  He had shed his coats and his cravat, and the love that shown from his eyes was a relief to her anxiety. He smiled and kissed her on the tip of the nose as he pivoted her towards the bed. “Go on.”

  She stretched out on the coverlet, burying her face in the softness of the mattress. The wait was not long before his fingers grazed over her rear.

  “You will bruise, but I do not see any scratches or abrasions.” The sensation on her scars was different than on her skin. With a light touch, he ran his fingers down their length. When his lips caressed the marred flesh, she gasped. He then moved to the other cheek and bit softly.

  “You once promised you would not bite,” she scolded over her shoulder with an arch look.

  His deep laugh reverberated through the room as he covered her with his body. “I lied,” he said in her ear. The warmth of his breath against her neck caused gooseflesh to erupt down to her shoulders.

  She gasped in mock indignation. “I thought deception of any kind was your abhorrence.”

  Fitzwilliam slid his hands underneath where he caressed her breasts and stomach, wreaking havoc on her ability to tease him. “In this case, it put you in my arms, so I cannot despise it.”

  His lips peppered kisses from her shoulder down her back and she moaned. “You cannot mean to… I smell like horse.”

  “My second favourite scent to orange blossoms.” Her giggle joined his low chuckle just before his bare torso came skin to skin against her back, bringing all coherent conversation to an end.

  Richard departed a few days after Elizabeth’s fall in order to return to London. He had managed to retain his standing invitation to Sagemore, and it pleased Darcy that Elizabeth had become rather fond of him.

  August brought long-awaited news from the investigators Darcy and his uncle had hired to find Gardiner. Grayson’s men had withdrawn back from their usual posts and moved into the seedier parts of London, citing Seven Dials and Saffron Hill as the main areas of their search.

  The investigators were not just watching the places Gardiner used to frequent, but also Grayson’s men. They explained the strong likelihood that Grayson’s men would lead them to their quarry—or at the very least, flush him out.

  By September, Darcy was busy with the harvest, but watched his wife with the same care as the investigators watching Grayson’s men. He had learned a great deal about women’s cycles and bodies during the first month of their intimacy. Elizabeth was far too modest and mortified to answer his questions, but a handy medical tome in the library filled in the knowledge he lacked.

  She had missed a month of her courses, and they were almost at the completion of the second month, but Elizabeth had not said a word. He suspected she was with child, but other than being a little sleepy, she had not complained of one symptom of the condition. She had even smirked when she blamed her fatigue on him keeping her from her much needed sleep.

  He had just returned from a few of the tenants’ farms where he had validated their yields so far, when he espied his wife as she wandered through the stable. He followed behind and watched from the door as she opened Page’s stall with a carrot in one outstretched hand and a halter hanging from her arm.

  “Hello, sweet boy,” she crooned while the horse munched on his treat. “Do you want to go for a ride? We could go find Fitzwilliam and Homer.” She was beginning to slip the halter around his head when Darcy came up behind her and stopped her progress with a hand to her arm.

  “We have servants who can do this.”

  “But I do not mind. I took him out the other day by myself.”

  He nodded and took the halter from her. “Johns told me about that, but I am glad you allowed the groom to saddle him.” Page pivoted his head and presented the bottom of his chin for a scratch, prompting a broad grin from them both. “I am also pleased you are so happy with him.”

  “He is wonderful,” she praised. She began scratching, but Page soon decided he wanted more stroking down his blaze. Elizabeth began laughing when the horse rubbed his head down the front of her body and back up. She surveyed the dust and horsehair covering the front of her riding habit. “Hattie will not be pleased.”

  “Would you walk back to the house with me?”

  “I planned to ride. Mrs. Green and I did not have any household matters to discuss this morning, and I wanted to take advantage of the free time.”

  “I have something I wish to discuss with you. Please.”

  He disliked the disappointment in her eyes, but she gave Page a peck on the nose. “We will do this another time. Be a good boy.”

  “You are going to make him a pet rather than a working animal. You already speak to him as though he were a lap dog.” He chuckled as he stepped ahead of her to place the halter on a hook near the door.

  “But he has so much personality. I have never seen a horse behave as he does.”

  He reached out to thread his fingers through hers and led her back in the direction of the house. Once they were over the bridge, he turned onto a path that trailed along the edge of the island, until they reached a bench. He took a seat and pulled her into his lap.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she exclaimed with a giggle. “Anyone could see us like this.”

  “The groundskeepers are on the other side of the island, clearing brush from the trees. We should have plenty of privacy.”

  She relaxed into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Why do you not want me to ride?”

  “What makes you think I do not want you to ride?”

  “I noticed the expression on your face a few days ago when I arrived at the stable on Page. I assure you, a groom went with me.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that you did not try to elude him.”

  She bit her lip as she grinned sheepishly. “I did not want to make you so angry again.”

  “I was worried, Elizabeth. The groom returned to the stable without you, and then, for the next hour we had no idea where you were. My only consolation was that Page had not returned without you.”

  She stroked up his chest and kissed him tenderly. “I apologised then and I apologise now. I do not like having to ride with anyone but you, but I will not steal away again.”

  “Thank you.” He hugged her to him and placed his lips against her forehead. “Do you realise you missed your courses last month?” He did not say the words too loudly, yet she heard, because she tensed.

  “At times, they are a bit late,” she prevaricated. “I am certain it is no cause for concern.”

  He turned her face so
she could not avoid his eyes. “They are not just a bit late. If I have my calculations correct, then tomorrow or the day after, you are supposed to have them again. You have missed an entire month.”

  She sat up to regard him with curiosity. “When I first had them after we were intimate, you had no idea what courses even were, and now, you calculate when I should be indisposed?”

  “There are several medical books in the library; I read everything I could find.” Her cheeks were overcome with a vivid blush.

  “I cannot imagine there was a great deal. Women have courses.”

  Anyone could see she was uncomfortable, but if she indeed suspected she was with child, it was important to be prepared. “Elizabeth, do you not know what it means when a woman’s courses cease?”

  His wife’s face blanched, and she gave a nervous gulp. “No, but you are beginning to frighten me. Is it something serious?”

  How could she be so naïve about the subject? She had refused to give him details when she explained she was indisposed and they could not be intimate. At the time, she had given every indication she was mortified rather than uninformed.

  “Your mother never explained any of it?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and stared as her fingers fidgeted in her lap. “My mother was rather brief on the subject.” She made a face, took out her handkerchief, and began to wave it with the characteristic high-pitched trill she used to mimic her mother. “Oh, Lizzy, stop your crying! All women have courses! I suggest you become accustomed to the unpleasantness because they come monthly.”

  “Why were you crying?” he asked horrified.

  “I woke up one morning, and I was bleeding. I am not one prone to hysterics, but I thought I was dying.”

  “Your older sister never mentioned them?”

  Elizabeth shook her head and began to fidget with the folds of her skirt. “Jane and I were barely a year apart. I was the first of us to begin.” She continued to run her fingers between the swaths of material, refusing to look at him, until she took a deep breath. “What does it mean?”