His servant put his head round the door a moment later. “Mrs. Darcy’s maid has just left her chamber, sir.”
He glanced over. “Thank you, Mr. Maunder.” A final glance in the glass and he knocked quietly on her chamber door, silently turning the handle.
The breath left his lungs as he saw her standing beside the window, waiting for him. Her slender figure was outlined by the faint moonlight through her nightshift, under the white shawl covering her shoulders. His wife.
“Elizabeth.” He crossed the room in a few strides and took her into his arms, burying his face into the crook of her shoulder, her hair whispering past his forehead, the scent of lavender rising around him; and her body, warm and pliant in his embrace. “My beloved Elizabeth.”
He felt her sway against him and lifted her into his arms, holding her close. He crossed to the bed and laid her down carefully, then sat beside her, taking her hands in his. “Are you well, dearest Elizabeth?”
Her breathing was ragged. “I’m well, William. Just a little unsure, but I’m happy we can be together at last. I know how long it’s seemed to you.” She looked at his hands enclosing hers. “Thank you for waiting for me.”
He bent over her, tasting her lips. “Thank you for agreeing to a quiet ceremony, so we could wed today,” he murmured against her face, feeling her features below his lips relax into a smile, the warmth of her breath taking his away entirely. He drew himself up. “One moment, Elizabeth. I don’t want you to get cold.”
He pulled the covers over her and reached to extinguish the candle, leaving the room in the dimness from the embers of the fire, half obscured by the heavy guard in front of it.
Stripping off his robe, he discarded it onto the chair and climbed into the bed beside her, taking her into his arms. “At last, my beloved wife. I will never have to leave you again.”
Her arms stole around his neck. “I love you, William. I’ve been so disquieted that, with all you’ve had to do these last months, I couldn’t be with you. Now, I can.”
“Always thinking of me, my darling Elizabeth. Now I can protect and love you, always.”
His hand tangled through her hair and he drew her face towards him, hearing her gasp as his lips met hers.
32
Elizabeth woke some hours later, warm and content. She was curled into his embrace, and the scent of him enfolded her; sage and sandalwood, mingled with the salty tang of the sea.
She sighed. They might be in a strange inn, in a town she’d never heard of — but in his arms, she was home, and utterly content.
His arm tightened round her, the breath of his murmur moving past her skin.
“Are you well?”
“Very well. I never want this night to end.” She lifted her hand and traced the outline of his jaw, marvelling that now she could do this. “You don’t know how often I’ve longed to be able to do this.”
She heard his breath catch, and he drew her closer, one finger tracing the outline of her lips.
“Elizabeth. My beloved wife. I am fortunate beyond measure.”
Her desire rose as his lips sought hers, and she allowed her hand to rake through his hair, tugging at the short curls. He groaned, and she felt the pounding of his heart through her thin nightshift as her own pulse raced in response.
Dawn filtered light through the gap in the curtains when she stirred again, still in his arms. She looked at his face, his expression open and unguarded as he slept.
How fortunate she was. Not only had he been there to save her life after the storm, but he’d come back to find her. He’d pushed through all the troubles with his brothers so he could come back to her.
He’d offered her the chance to be beside him for the rest of her life, offered her the security of a wealthy life, and the chance to build a family within that security. And he loved her.
She was fortunate indeed.
Welford and Loughborough. Two more towns, like Harlington, that she would never forget for the nights she had shared with her husband. But now, on this third afternoon of the unhurried journey north, they were approaching Pemberley.
“Don’t look out of the window just yet, Elizabeth,” he said to her. “I want you to see the house from the perfect vantage point first.”
She smiled. It was the first time he had sounded proud of the estate, and she knew from Georgiana that neither of the younger siblings had been happy there. She had some work to do to help make new, happier memories, and yearned to begin the task.
She watched his face as he glanced out to check the right place was approaching, and he rapped with his cane on the roof of the coach, and it drew to a halt.
She carefully looked down as he assisted her down the step.
“There, dearest Elizabeth. Our new home.”
She raised her gaze and saw a great house, built of warm cream sandstone. Many enormous windows on the front elevation looked out over sweeping lawns which sloped gently to a still, calm lake.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “So calm and gracious.” She looked up at him. “We will be happy here.”
He nodded. “We must make it so. There is a lot of work to be done, to make it how it used to be — a good place, for us and those who live here.”
She slipped her hand onto his arm. “We can do it together.”
He smiled down at her. “Together.”
She knew much of the business of the estate would fall on him alone, but she was determined to be mistress of the estate in the best possible way. She’d begin by getting to know the household staff, and then she would work with the families of the estate workers.
“Perhaps we might stroll in your favourite part of the gardens before dining, William? I’m impatient to get to know our home.”
“Let’s go down.” He turned and assisted her up into the coach.
“Thank you, Mr. Evans.”
The coachman touched his hat. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
She moved her gown a little and William sat beside her. She watched out of the window as the house grew larger as they approached.
“It’s much bigger than it appeared at first.” She quailed a little at the thought of managing it.
He squeezed her hand. “There are many very experienced and trusted staff who’ve managed the place for a long time,” he reassured her. “They will be a little anxious as to how we intend to run Pemberley, after recent events, but I think if we don’t change too much at first they will become easier in their minds about us.”
She smiled up at him. “We are of one mind on the matter.”
Two hours later, her hand lightly on his arm, they stepped down the wide stone steps from the west terrace onto the lawns, where the afternoon sun lay in great stripes as it shone through the boughs of the ancient oak standing proudly in the centre.
“I’ve never seen such an old oak,” she marvelled as they strolled towards it.
“No, the war and the need for timber for new ships has taken a terrible toll on the woods of the country.” He looked up in the boughs. “I’ll arrange that the acorns are collected when they ripen, and we will plant many more on the estate, and on the farms around us.” He sighed. “Our grandchildren will thank us.”
She shivered in delight at the thought of children and grandchildren, but she wouldn’t speak of them now. She knew she was more tired than she wished to admit.
But he had discerned her. “Take a few minutes to rest on the bench, Elizabeth. Then we can stroll to the edge of the lake before we return to the house.” He sat beside her. “We have plenty of time to explore another day.”
She laughed at his words. “You are as impatient as I am to begin our life’s work, William.”
She felt the press of his thigh against her leg, knowing they could not show open intimacy where they might be observed.
“You’re right, as always, Elizabeth. We will begin tomorrow, perhaps. But we will always find time to be together each day.”
She knew mischief danced in her eyes. �
��Try to omit that time at your peril, Admiral Darcy!”
He chuckled. “Indeed, I would not dare.”
33
Darcy sat beside her in the drawing room after dinner as she played for him. He knew he could know no greater pleasure than this, listening to her, knowing that she and he were as one.
He rose to his feet and went to the tray, poured her a cup of tea and returned to the pianoforte. “Some refreshment for you, Elizabeth.”
Her hands dropped from the keyboard. “How lovely! You know exactly what I need before I can ask.”
He touched her hand. “We have two weeks. Two weeks, just you and me. I intend to make the most of it.”
She looked bemused. “Two weeks until what? I thought we were staying here now?”
“We are.” He smiled reassuringly. “I only mean two weeks until I have to share you. Richard is escorting Georgiana up to Pemberley. Then I will have to share you. But we will only be a small party until the end of the mourning period. After that, I have no doubt that friends and family will wish to visit us.”
She smiled impishly, and he felt his own spirits rise.
“Well, then, Mr. Darcy. We will have to make the most of the next two weeks.”
He felt his smile deep in his heart. “Perhaps.”
“I have finished my tea, Mr. Darcy.” She drained her cup. “Have you?”
“I beg your pardon?” He was now the one who felt bemused.
“When you have finished your tea, it will be time to retire,” she explained, as if to a recalcitrant child.
He was hard put not to smile. “Very well.” He hastily drained his own cup, and placed it down on the tray before offering her his hand.
She rose gracefully to her feet. “Lead the way, sir. You must not forget, I have not seen the upper floors.”
As they climbed the stairs, he told her what he had decided.
“Because, of course, we cannot move into the master’s suites until mourning is over — and after that, I have thought we might like to have both chambers refurbished to our own tastes.” He turned to the eastern wing as they reached the top of the stairs. “I thought at first we would take the main guest apartment. It’s quite commodious. But I would rather wake to the same view as from the master’s chambers. So, I’ve arranged that we will have the second set of family apartments. They will do us quite well, I think, until our own are ready for us.”
“I’m sure they will, Mr. Darcy.” She seemed to be in a strange mood. “After all, I had only a small chamber at Longbourn. Also, I think on board ship, you constantly had to take smaller berths when ladies invaded your cabin after rescue!”
He chuckled. He liked her light-hearted mood. “You’re right, Mrs. Darcy. I think we will manage quite well.”
After he dismissed his servant, he entered her chamber through the interconnecting door. Elizabeth was standing, outlined by the great window, looking out over the shadowed grounds. He crossed the room and stood behind her, his arms enfolding her.
She leaned against him. “You are right, William. To look out to this view — and to wake to it each morning, will be perfect.”
He smiled and laid his head against hers. “Already you are making the place more like home to me.”
She turned within his embrace and stretched up to kiss him. “This is a new home now, we’ll make new memories to fade the old.”
He lay still as she slept in his arms. In the dim light he could see her relaxed features, and her trust in him was absolute. He vowed he would never betray that trust. His life could hold no greater pleasure than spending each night together. Sleeping, talking quietly, or sharing intimate moments — all of them were a joy he’d never imagined would be his.
His mind took him back to the sea, streaming over the deck, struggling to maintain his footing as his ship heeled hard over to release a broadside on the enemy. The scream of enemy iron as their broadsides hammered into the side of the ship, ribbons of blood pouring down the scuppers. The screams of men, dying on deck, or being dragged down to the horrors of the orlop deck and the rough ministrations of the surgeon.
He still didn’t know how he had been so fortunate to survive, as so many better men all around him had not. More so, that he’d survived unscathed.
She’d woken in an instant. “William, it’s all right. You’re here with me.You’re safe.”
She was leaning up on one elbow, bent over him, her voice concerned.
“Yes, I’m well, Elizabeth. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb your rest.”
There was a smile in her voice. “You weren’t asleep?”
“No.” He drew her closer. “I was wondering how I was so fortunate as to be here with you when so many good men died in battle beside me.”
Her lips pressed against his cheek. “So that’s what it was. Before, you were asleep.”
“Before?” He wasn’t sure what she was referring to.
“You have woken sometimes, having dreamed of the battles,” she said. “But you soon return to sleep.”
He frowned. “Sometimes. But not since we have married. I am content.”
She laughed. “If you say so, William.”
“You mean I have?”
“I do. But, as I said, you soon return to sleep.”
He tucked her hair behind her ears. “When I have a bad memory, I usually get up and have a drink of water and wait until I am calmer. I didn’t know I was still disturbing you. I’m sorry.”
“You cannot help it. I’m glad I’m here and I hope the dreams will fade over the coming months.”
“Indeed.” He idly let his fingers trace along her arm. “Go back to sleep, Elizabeth. I will not disturb you further.”
He heard her splutter of laughter. “You wish to disappoint me?”
He pretended a dignity he didn’t feel. “In what way, madam?”
Her lips touched his. “I ought not to have to said anything.”
“You may say what you wish, dearest Elizabeth.” His arm tightened round her, drawing her against him, the warmth of her body pressed against his, and he tipped her face up to meet his lips. “Let me show you how ardently I love you.”
34
Elizabeth walked along the side of the lake, happy the sun was hiding behind the high summer clouds. Young Will bounced in her arms, one chubby hand firmly tangled in her hair.
She’d decided to join her sister and sit under the trees some yards away. Jane’s child was due in the next few weeks, and she needed to rest as much as possible. Mr. Bingley hovered protectively over her, his face wearing a constantly anxious expression.
A hand snaked round her waist and she jumped. “William! Don’t startle me like that. I might have dropped your son.” She tried to sound disapproving.
He chuckled, reaching over and tickling the baby, whose rich belly laugh made them both laugh in their turn. “I am here to distract you. Your sister is asleep, so I thought we could take a turn round the lake.”
He had an innocent air, and she wondered what this was all about.
“Of course. Might you carry Will? He’s getting quite heavy now.”
“Not right now, Elizabeth. I think Georgiana wishes to take him for a while.” He lifted the baby high into the air and swung him round.
“You be good for your aunt, my son.”
Georgiana reached out for Will. “I’ll take good care of him, Elizabeth. We’re going to sit under the oak tree.”
“Thank you, Georgiana. But be careful; he’s learned that a hard tug on one’s hair often results in a gratifying response.”
Her husband took her hand on his arm as they watched his sister bear the child away, followed by the nursemaids carrying blankets and cushions. She looked up at him. “Where shall we walk to?”
“I thought we could go to the little cove by the bottom stream. It’ll be cool there, and private.”
“We don’t have so many visitors now, William. Are you still feeling the strain of entertaining?”
; “Not at all, as long as I get enough time with you, dearest Elizabeth.” His arm tightened on her hand. “I was sorry your family couldn’t visit us this summer as we’d planned, but it’s a consolation for you that the Bingleys now live quite close.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, I ought not to laugh — and I do feel sorry for Charlotte.”
He smiled. “She is content in her marriage, I believe, and has a baby on the way. She is getting over the loss of her father quite well, I thought.”
“But her mother is not. Lady Lucas was so happy when Charlotte married Mr. Collins, who decided not one of my younger sisters was suitable — and he was easily diverted to Charlotte.” Elizabeth stifled her fit of laughter. “But she cannot forgive Mama for suddenly producing a son when everyone had thought her childbearing years to be over.”
William smiled as he led her round the foot of the lake and over the tiny bridge. “It seems strange that our son has an uncle who is younger than he is.”
Elizabeth picked her way carefully down the narrow little path to the cove. “Kitty’s last letter to me says that Papa dotes on young Tommy. They see a great deal more of him now than we ever did before he had a son. And Mama has become quite sensible now.”
William led her to the bench seat beside the little chuckling stream leading from the lake. “She must have been concerned for years about the security of all her daughters. An entailed estate is always a worry.”
She glanced up at the dappled shade above them. “Thank you for suggesting we come here. I think we may have about an hour before Aunt and Uncle Gardiner return from their calls in Lambton. Then we will all take tea together.”
His arm was around her in this private little place. “I can endure anything, Elizabeth, share you with those I must, if I have this time alone with you.”
She leaned against him. “They are all going away next week. Even Georgiana is going to stay with your uncle and aunt for a week or two. So it will be just us.”
Darcy the Admiral Page 14