by Wells, Linda
“Hello.” She smiled and reached up to caress his face. “What have you done to yourself?”
“Do you like it?” He laughed softly when her nose wrinkled, then leaned down to kiss her again.
“I do not like your whiskers!”
“Shall I begin a new fashion, love? Be a bearded gentleman?” He rubbed his cheek against hers.
Elizabeth batted him away. “If you do, you shall not be kissed by this lady.”
“Oh, well then, could you suggest one who would enjoy my kisses? Miss Gannon is still available …”
“Fitzwilliam!”
Darcy smiled and then laughed to see her eyes sparkling with indignation. “You feel better.”
“So do you to be teasing me so cruelly.” Elizabeth frowned, but quickly softened her expression in the presence of his twinkling eyes. “You are better?”
“My head throbs, but it is tolerable. Of course I have not moved yet. Your pain? How is it?”
“The same as yours, throbbing but not intolerable.” She sighed. “I am hungry.”
“So am I. And I feel a deep desire to bathe.” Darcy and Elizabeth gazed at each other for a long time. They both looked ill and certainly felt unclean, but their eyes were alive once again, and both knew instinctively that the worst was past them. Rolling over, he carefully embraced her then lowered his lips to hers for a very tender kiss. When he drew away, they both sighed. “You are so beautiful.” Elizabeth caressed his matted hair and shook her head in disbelief. “We are going to be well.” He whispered. “I love you, dear Elizabeth.”
“I love you, my Fitzwilliam.” They fell back into their gaze, and held each other quietly, just letting the truth of their survival wash over them. Finally Elizabeth kissed his nose and he smiled. “A safe spot for your lips?”
“Until you rid yourself of that … carpet on your chin.” She laughed.
“There is my laugh. I dreamed of your laugh.” His smile fell away and he caressed her tangled hair. “You had me so frightened.”
“I know dear, Jane told me. She told me you would recover, so that I could relax and not worry.”
“Jane?”
“She was here most of the night, pouring out her heart when she thought I was asleep.”
“Is she well?” His brow creased.
“Yes, love. She is very happy, and wants to be happy in her marriage as we are. She told me all about Robert.” Elizabeth traced her fingers over his brow. “Papa told me about Mr. Stewart going to the Henleys and telling them the truth of what happened. I remember thinking that Mrs. Henley was a refined version of Mama. Papa met her last evening when she tried to visit, and he said as much to me when he sat with us. Mama …”
Darcy watched her eyes well up. “No, do not say it if it is painful.”
“Papa would not have told me if he knew I could hear.” She swallowed. “She was worried what her future would be if I had died.”
“Oh, love.”
“I suppose that is all I will ever be to her.”
“I am sorry.” He hugged her.
She wiped her eyes and pushed away the hurt. “Mr. Bingley and Uncle Henry went to the club and gossiped like schoolgirls. Aunt Helen told me all about it. They had the whole club laughing at Lord Creary. I guess that his prowess is diminishing.”
“Lizzy!”
“Aunt Helen was practically gleeful to talk about it. I have never heard her so pleased.”
“She thought we were asleep as well, I take it.” Darcy played with her hair and she nodded. “Any other visitors?”
“Aunt Gardiner brought in Mary and Georgiana; she hugged you for a long time.” He smiled a little and raised his shoulders, admitting he knew nothing of it. “She apologized for being scared, and Mary kissed us both and whispered to me that she was looking after Georgiana and not to worry. And Eva sat with us for a little while but had to leave to care for Richard. He was so angry and worried, she said. He wants to destroy Wickham and anyone associated with his escape.” Elizabeth saw his eyes close. “It is the fear talking, I think. He is your brother.”
“Now he knows the worry I have felt so many times for him.” His eyes reopened.
“I understand that the Harwicks visited the house, as well as Captain de Bourgh.” She smiled a little. “Mrs. Mercer whispered that there is a stack of cards from the curious who wished to pay a call, something was in the paper, it seems.”
“I imagine that she enjoyed turning them away.” Darcy took her hand and kissed it. “I seem to remember them having removed me to the other room again and waking up alone.” He looked down and confessed, “I think that I lost my mind when you became feverish. I was so afraid that if I left your side you would leave me forever.”
“You must have made that clear to them since you are here now.” Darcy swallowed back his emotion only to look up to see her eyes just as bright. They leaned together and kissed again. “I gathered that they kept you asleep to keep you calm. Mr. Bingley told Uncle Henry that they needed to let you wake and care for me.”
“Bingley.” Darcy smiled. “So many friends were fighting for us.” His hand caressed over her face and down over her bandages. Elizabeth flinched. “Does it hurt a great deal?”
“Not more than I can bear.” She saw his head shake and laughed. “I have had a child, Fitzwilliam; I can bear a great deal.”
“So you can, but it does not mean that you should.” His hand drifted over her breasts and his brow furrowed a little. “You are not …as large as you were.”
“I am not?” She felt herself and her eyes widened, becoming aware of the aching. “Oh Will! Have I lost my milk?”
“I do not know how long we have laid here. Here, let me see.” Opening her gown he first paused to smile at the sight of her breasts and then bent to kiss them. Running his warm hand over the mounds, he took a nipple into his mouth and began to suckle. Elizabeth closed her eyes, half-worried that her ability to feed their baby was gone, and half-enjoying the reassuring presence of her husband’s touch. It took some determined work, but at last Darcy’s efforts were rewarded with a mouthful. He moved to the second nipple and did the same. “There.” He smiled and kissed each one. “We will have to repeat this often before Rosalie can return to you.”
“Somehow I do not think you will mind.” She smiled with relief and relaxed into his arms again.
“No love, that is one duty I will gladly perform.” He laughed and kissed her. “Besides, I am very thirsty!”
“So am I.”
“I do not think that you are up to suckling me, dearest.” Their eyes met and she raised her brow. “Lizzy … no, let me bathe first!”
“If you must.” She pursed her lips and hugged him.
“You are teasing me.” He whispered.
“Maybe.” They remained embraced and listened to the sounds of the household coming awake, then heard Rosalie’s first cry of the morning. Elizabeth let go of him. “Help me, please.”
Darcy slowly sat up and placing one hand behind her back and grasping her uninjured arm, helped her to sit up. Without thought he got out of the bed and walked around to the other side to help her to stand. “There you go.” He smiled and they walked, unsteadily, to the nursery door. Darcy opened it in time to see Rosalie’s napkin string retied. “Good morning, my girl.” He called. The nursemaid jumped and then broke into a wide smile when she turned.
“Mr. and Mrs. Darcy! Oh what a wonderful sight you are!” Mrs. Robbins cried and rose from the rocker where she was waiting for Rosalie.
Rosalie’s eyes grew wide at the sound of her father’s voice and they watched her head turn. Darcy’s heart nearly burst with happiness to witness her searching for him. Elizabeth laughed to see him beam. “Good morning, Rosa.” She said softly.
Immediately she began wiggling and making noises. The nursemaid picked her up and handed her to Darcy. Elizabeth kissed her face. “I am sorry that I cannot hold you, sweetheart, but as soon as I can, I will.” She reached out and touched her ha
ir, as tears began to track down her face. “Did he hurt her?”
“No madam, she was well, not a mark on her.” Mrs. Robbins wiped her eyes to see the family together again.
“We will find a way for you to hold her, dear.” Darcy smiled as his eyes brightened, and he leaned down to nuzzle Rosalie’s cheek. “I love the smell of my little baby girl.”
Elizabeth wiped her eyes and he kissed her. “You sound like a woman wishing for a newborn.” Smiling up at him, she caressed his gaunt face. “Well, perhaps we should tend to our needs, then we can take care of our daughter.”
“I suppose.” He kissed Rosalie and handed her to Mrs. Robbins. “Thank you for looking after her for us. How long have we been away?”
Mrs. Robbins smiled to see Darcy immediately seek Elizabeth’s hand. “It has been six days since the incident, sir.”
“Six days.” Elizabeth whispered. “We were ill.”
“Yes madam, the staff has been so worried.”
“Well … I think that we need to thank them for their hard work in our absence.” Darcy turned to Elizabeth and without care, kissed her before the servants. He caressed her pale face and smiled. “Which would you prefer first, a bath or breakfast?”
“Oh a bath! And some tooth powder!” She laughed when he led her back to the bedchamber and pulled the bell. “I want you to sniff me and wear that silly smile you had for Rosalie.”
Darcy chuckled and they walked over to the window to look out over the trees of Hyde Park. He stood behind her and carefully wrapped her in his embrace. “Dearest, I believe that I can summon a silly smile for you no matter the reason. I love you, my dear Elizabeth.”
“I love you, my woolly, Fitzwilliam.” She reached up to rub his face and he leaned into her hand, and groaned.
“That is it, love, scratch there, oh, please!”
Chapter 20
8 July 1810
A week has passed since Elizabeth and I were brought back from the Land of Nod. Slowly we have regained our strength, but I fear that my wife will take some time to regain her confidence. She clings to me, as I do with her. We nearly fight to hold our daughter! I had the advantage at first, but my resourceful wife has adapted and with the aid of her fashionable silk sling, she is somehow able to support both her arm and our child. We have agreed to terms, my love has her for feedings; I have her for kisses afterwards. Rosa and I have had many talks about her mother over the past days, and we have come to agree that she is the most extraordinary woman, and that Rosa will do very well to grow up to be just like her. She will soon be three months old. It is difficult to imagine the world without her in it. I am eternally grateful that she was spared.
The rumours surrounding the incident have been effectively quashed by our friends and family.
Darcy stopped his writing when Lord Matlock entered the study. “Uncle Henry …”
“Stay seated, Son.” He smiled and sat down, then looked out to the hallway. De Bourgh and Fitzwilliam strode in and the colonel plopped into a chair. “Watch that sword, Richard.”
“Father, I am an expert with the blade, I will harm nothing that does not deserve it.” He grinned at Darcy. “You look better.”
“So do you.” Darcy noted an affectionate glare coming over his features. “I feel better. If cook has her way I will soon be required to visit a tailor for new clothes.”
“Self-control, Cousin.”
“I am acquainted with the concept.” He smiled and said determinedly, “No, I am not concerned; I will soon be fencing again.”
“How are your headaches?” De Bourgh asked as he settled gracefully into a chair near Lord Matlock.
“Not so bad, after exertion they come on.” He shrugged and looked down. “Maybe no fencing for a while longer. I am resolved not to take any more laudanum. I did not like how it made me feel.”
“Now you understand why I stopped taking it.” Fitzwilliam said thoughtfully as he easily read the lie his cousin spoke, and letting it pass for now, stretched out his leg. “It is addicting. I saw too many of my comrades return from battle only to be fighting a new demon. I would rather live with the pain.”
“I remember Father drank down more and more towards the end, and it did not seem to help.” Darcy studied the pen in his hands. “Elizabeth refuses to take any more, either.”
“But she does feel pain?”
“Yes …but she …she wishes to feed Rosalie.” He kept staring at the pen and thought of when he noticed that her milk tasted odd, and how she immediately concluded that it was the morphine. “I hate knowing that she is suffering, she will not admit to more than a twinge though.”
“It will get better, Darcy. I swear.” At last Darcy looked up to see Fitzwilliam’s gentle smile. “By the time your head stops aching, I wager she will be feeling better, too.”
He startled when he realized that his claims of being well did not fool him. “Thank you.” He smiled a little. “I owe Elizabeth a picnic. Perhaps that will be a pleasant distraction.”
“That was a special day, I am sorry that Wickham has ruined it for you.” Lord Matlock said quietly.
“No, he is not permitted to ruin it. If you recall, his first attack fell on my birthday, and Elizabeth refused to let him take that day from us. She will not tolerate us losing this far more important date.” He opened a drawer and took out the diamond and ruby bracelet that had been recovered by Mrs. Mercer. “She may not be receiving this on the day I intended to present it, but now it will be a symbol of another reason to celebrate. We lived.”
“So likewise I should celebrate the day I was shot?” Fitzwilliam chuckled and his father looked at his hands. “Why not?”
“I see no humour in the subject so I will move on. I have news of Wickham.” Lord Matlock announced. “He is alive at the moment. He was not shot, it seems. Whatever that bullet hit before striking Elizabeth, well, be thankful it was there. In any case, Wickham’s wounds are no mere scratches. The prison surgeon will not be surprised to see him succumb to disease before long, and expects him to die in prison if he does not reach the gallows soon.”
“Oddly enough, the ship he was to take to Australia is due to depart in the next week or so.” Fitzwilliam noted.
“Will he be on it?” Darcy asked.
“No, no, he will hang this time, for certain. We cannot prove that he murdered that man in the alley, but he certainly did attack you, Elizabeth, and Rosalie. That should be more than enough.” Lord Matlock said angrily.
“Why do I doubt that?”
“You doubted he was dead, too.” De Bourgh said thoughtfully.
“And I was correct.”
“So you were.”
“What do you want to happen to him, Darcy?” Fitzwilliam asked and watched his cousin staring at the diamonds as he ran the bracelet over his fingers again and again. “Darcy?”
“Would he live long on the ship, do you think?” He looked between Fitzwilliam and de Bourgh.
“He will be packed tight in a hold with hundreds of others. They will not have a breath of fresh air often, if at all. Disease is rampant; the privateers who sail the vessels are only interested in profit … I can see him being food for the sharks, before long.” De Bourgh studied him carefully. “You would prefer to see him die that way?”
“I wish for him to suffer.” Darcy looked up from Elizabeth’s diamonds. “I want him to lay and listen to men dying around him. I want him to become more ill, and not have anyone there to look after him. I have no desire to see him to health only to hang him. I want him to be alone, utterly without a friend, and let him realize the life he might have had compared to the one he chose.”
“I doubt that Wickham is capable of such reflection.” Fitzwilliam murmured.
“No, that is where you are incorrect. He is greatly capable of imagining all sorts of horror. What he did to us was no impulse; it was a long considered plan. I want him to feel the relief of escaping the hangman’s noose only to have him experience hell on earth on that shi
p. I hope that he suffers for a very long time before he meets his end. My memory of that day is gradually being restored, and I will likely dwell on it the rest of my life. I want him to do the same.”
Lord Matlock studied his nephew’s expressionless face. “I will speak to the magistrate, Darcy. But I think that this may be out of your hands.”
“I will accept whatever fate the law delivers; these are simply my feelings, if they matter at all. He will die regardless of the method chosen.” He placed the bracelet in his pocket and smiled slightly at the silenced men. “I suppose that I should be more forgiving.”
“I think not.” Fitzwilliam declared. “I am kicking myself daily for not killing him when I had the opportunity.”
“I agree with you.” De Bourgh nodded. “Had I been near with my sword I would have …”
“If the pistol had not gone off, I would have had the pleasure.” Darcy said softly.
“No Darcy, it is not pleasurable to kill.” Fitzwilliam said quietly. “It may be necessary, but never speak of it as sport.”
“Forgive me.”
“I prefer that you remain ignorant.”
Darcy and Fitzwilliam read each other’s eyes and Lord Matlock broke the silence that descended over the room. “Darcy, I will not patronize you and claim that I know what you feel, but … Well I think that common sense tells us that the privateers are not going to accept a prisoner who is already at death’s door when his bed can be given to an able-bodied man who will earn them a profit. This ship is the last of the year; it will be a very long time before the next sails, probably not until January.”