Mr Darcy's Second Chance

by Gillian Smith

  Elizabeth got up to leave.

  "All right, all right!" he'd conceded, throwing the unused sheath to the floor. He'd just pull out. She couldn't do a damn thing about that except fume. "Fine. It's gone. Come back here."

  He'd put his arm around her waist and pulled her back. Still annoyed, Elizabeth had swatted him away, and he'd caught her hands, pushing her down. She'd struggled angrily but not nearly as much as he'd thought she was capable of.

  "Do you think you're going somewhere?" he'd growled at her, pinning her down.

  She'd responded with barred teeth that parted as he covered her mouth with his and with angry eyes that closed as he touched her. She'd responded to his lovemaking. He'd felt her bare body under his, her legs shifting apart. He'd closed his eyes again, and finally, there was only her. His unshaven, scraped face shift against her face and neck, and her palms pressed against his. He'd let go of her hands and felt her fingers gripping his shoulders as he sank deep inside her. That was what he craved. Not sweet words and giggles but something primal, dark, dangerous, base. That was what would make it better.

  Suddenly, he'd realised she'd struggled. She pushed at his shoulders desperately, wanting him off of her. As soon as he'd withdrawn and moved back, she'd rolled away and curled into a ball, her face contorted in pain.

  "Elizabeth?"

  She'd stayed still, legs together, trying to catch her breath.

  "Elizabeth? Good God, what's wrong?"

  "It hurts," she'd said hoarsely.

  He touched her bare hip, and she flinched, as if afraid he would hit her. He'd removed his hand. "Good God, are you well?"

  "Forgive me," she'd managed as she caught her breath.

  "Forgive you? For what? I forgot. I thought… I was… I wasn't thinking. Did I hurt you?"

  She'd nodded, refusing to look at him.

  "Elizabeth, I, God forgive me. Please forgive me."

  She'd nodded again, wiping her eyes. After a moment, she'd shifted to her back again. "All right," she offered unconvincingly. "Just- Please be careful."

  "No," he'd said immediately, disgusted with himself and unsettled that she would feel obligated to continue. "No, Elizabeth," he'd repeated.

  She'd looked and then turned away.

  Not sure what else to do, he'd lain down, curling up to her back and putting his arms around her. He'd felt the tension in her body as he touched her. He'd stroked her shoulder nervously, not sure what else to say or do except apologise again. "Relax. It's too soon after the baby."

  She'd rolled away again. He'd swallowed and scooted closer, pulling the blankets over them. "Elizabeth, forgive me," he'd tried one last time, but she'd only nodded, as embarrassed as he was. So he'd let the subject drop.

  And now he lay beside her, pretending to sleep and telling himself it happened because it was too soon after Olivia, and he'd gone too fast. Beside him, she was pretending sleep as well, though he couldn't imagine what she must be thinking.

  He doubted he and Anne had been together two dozen times in their marriage, but he'd never physically forced her. He'd known she disliked the act itself but sometimes she liked kissing him, being close to him in the darkness. Beyond that, either she cooperated, or she got frightened and he stopped. He didn't think of it as refusing to please him, which no good wife would do, but rather as being unable to. While Elizabeth's response to lovemaking was very different, he applied the same standard. In his mind, there was a word for it when a man violently forced a woman, even his wife.

  "You asked, and I wanted to," Lillian's voice whispered to him again and he rubbed his ear roughly, blocking her out.

  Chapter 10

  “The brain had its own food on which it battened,

  And the imagination, made grotesque by terror,

  Twisted and distorted as a living thing by pain,

  Danced like some foul puppet on a stand

  And grinned through moving masks.”

  - Oscar Wilde

  He was furious that, despite his promise to himself, Lillian's idle words had stolen into his bed and come between him and Elizabeth. He was angry his wife had to beg him to stop rather than him realising he was hurting her. He was annoyed that his little sister didn't trust him. He was furious he hadn't shot someone.

  Elizabeth poured the tea, setting a cup in front of Georgiana along with the cream pitcher.

  "What happened to your neck?" Georgiana asked as Elizabeth bent over her.

  There were several small red and purple marks from Darcy's teeth around her neck. Darcy bit his lip, silently berating himself. Thirty minutes earlier, he'd have vowed she'd been giving as good as she was getting but he doubted there were marks on him and he hadn't given birth a few months ago. She was still so weak. He wondered how long she'd struggled before he'd noticed. And he thought how badly he must have hurt her she'd ask him to stop.

  Darcy looked down, studying his tea cup.

  "Nothing," Elizabeth answered casually. "You wanted to talk with us?" She changed the subject quickly, remembered that Georgiana asked for the talk.

  "Well, I- I wanted to ask you something," she looked at her brother hesitantly. "I-"

  His sister focused on hands on her lap, watching Elizabeth from underneath her eyelashes. Darcy followed Georgiana's gaze, then shook his head, trying to keep his temper in check. He didn't mind his sister talking with Elizabeth but he disliked her conspiring with his wife. It was his house and for once he would like to know what was happening.

  "I guess Elizabeth already knows... What is happening, Georgie?" He was still angry, and he was angrier because he showed his impatience and bitterness to his sister.

  "It isn't that important-" The girl said frightened by her brother demeanour. She stiffened, her eyes still locked on Elizabeth.

  "Georgiana, look at me." He sounded fiercer than he intended. Hell, he shouldn't be offended at all. His sister wanted to talk with him and she wanted for his wife to be present. She was afraid of him.

  "Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth warned.

  "What?" he snapped.

  There was that look again, suggesting if he didn't already have a hint, she felt he merited one.

  "What is going on?"

  Georgiana startled and looked as though she'd like to crawl under the bed and stay there.

  "Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth repeated sharply. "Georgie, your brother appears to be in a disagreeable mood right now. Go to the music room and play for us something nice and I will talk with Fitzwilliam." She said calmly.

  The girl got up and left the parlour.

  "What is wrong with you?" She asked her husband furiously. "If you want to be angry at me, you need not show it to your sister!"

  "I am not angry at you!"

  "She wanted to talk to you. She finally found the strength to do this, and you destroyed it!"

  Darcy tipped his head from side to side, stretching his tight neck muscles. "Forgive me," he said evenly.

  "It is not me you should apologise."

  "I know. I will talk to her but now since I have known you are involved with it, can you tell me what was it about?"

  "I cannot, Mr. Darcy. I am sorry but this is something she has to do, not me."

  He glared at Elizabeth, then slammed his tea cup down furiously and stood, tipping his chair backward so it crashed to the floor.

  "I am going for a ride." He said leaving the parlour.

  *~~*~~*

  Dinner had been served so long ago that even the smell of it was gone. All that remained in the dark dining room was a faint aroma from the bowl of fruit on the table and last of the soapy wet wood smell from the clean floor. Darcy went to the library and dropped his coat over the back of a chair and didn't bend to pick it up when it slid off.

  When he checked the nursery he realised he'd lost his family but found it had only migrated to the end of the hall. Jane and Olivia were sleeping in bed with Elizabeth.

  He stepped over his wife and sat on the mattress, watching her until she woke. She open
ed her eyes the way she always did, blinking as he came into focus.

  "You are back," she whispered, scooting up on the cushions.

  "I love you." he kissed her on the forehead.

  He pulled off his boots and let them slide to the floor with two soft thumps. He lay down along on the bed, putting his head on her abdomen and his arm around her waist.

  "You felt lonely and took girls to the bed." This wasn't a question.

  "Since you abandoned me." She teased.

  He was quite a while, closing his eyes as she stroked his hair. His body ached but his mind raced, too full for sleep.

  "Your head is heavy, my love," Elizabeth whispered.

  "Forgive me," he apologised, sitting up, thinking it was a ruse to get him to leave.

  "No, I mean you seem to think too many things."

  "Hearts get heavy. Heads get full," he explained.

  "Hearts do not get full?"

  "Sometimes," he exhaled, relaxing and resting his cheek against her abdomen again. "If you're lucky. Hearts also get empty."

  "What about souls?"

  "They get depressed," he admitted tiredly. "May I stay here? And sleep? Just for a little. Is that all right?"

  "Yes, it is. Of course, it is. It always is Fitzwilliam."

  "All right," he mumbled, feeling every muscle in his body go limp in exhaustion. Jane kicked in her dreams and Olivia hiccoughed.

  "How is Georgiana?"

  "She is fine but you have to talk to her, Fitzwilliam."

  "I will."

  *~~*~~*

  Darcy was the only man who had dreams of falling that started with the part where he hit the ground. He groaned as consciousness surged over him like a tide but didn't quite let him break the surface for a moment. He felt woman's cool fingertips stroking his cheek. His head hurt and his shirt was wet with something he hoped wasn't a blood.

  "Are you awake, Fitzwilliam?" A familiar voice asked sounding like someone was just above him. "Fitzwilliam?" That was his wife.

  Without thinking he moved his hand slowly in search of hers and she laced her fingers through his, murmuring comfortingly and telling him he had the attack. His headache came back. He felt the soft, thin fabric of her dress against his skin and realised he was laying on the bed with his head on her lap. She smelled nice. Like Olivia, and soap, and the sunshine, and the bed sheets after lovemaking. She continued caressing his face to keep him calm, and he kept his eyes closed. Her touch differed from Anne's. More confident, more soothing.

  He heard water splash and felt the washcloth pass gently over his forehead and bare shoulder blade. A few drops trickled down his back but she caught them, wiping them away. She held his gaze for several seconds while the washcloth in her hand, forgotten, dripped cold water on his collar. Her fine dark eyes were as deep, promising there was more in their depths than on their surface. Her tongue parted her lips, moistening them. For a moment, the male animal lurking inside him wanted to take her, strip off the dress and do things to her he'd only read about. Then afterward, to lay nude across the soft sheets with her in his arms and sleeps away the long warm afternoon.

  "Yes," she said. He'd long forgotten what they'd been discussing but her "yes" sounded more like permission than agreement.

  He wondered if he asked. Was that her answer, already decided? Did she even think of such carnal matters or was he imagining things? Yes, if he asked, she would let him make love to her - not out of duty or loyalty or gratitude but because she wanted him to. Because he wanted her and there was an empty place inside her body that craved his.

  Just then they heard a baby calling her mama.

  "That's Jane," Darcy whispered, still not moving and barely even breathing.

  "Yes," Elizabeth said. "The maid is with her."

  He wanted to be the father of her child. And he wanted her to be the mother of his.

  "Go get her," he suggested hoarsely. "I missed her."

  "Are you feel enough strong to have her here? How is your head?"

  "It burns but it isn't that bad. Please, bring Jane."

  Her eyes flashed over his face one last time and she got up from the bed and left their bedroom. He exhaled, not sure what had just happened but damn sure he wanted it to happen again.

  The bedchamber door closed, and the bed shifted as Elizabeth returned, curling up to his back and adjusting the covers. She put her arms around him, holding him invitingly close.

  "Where is Jane?"

  "Well, you slept Mr. Darcy. I bring your daughter and you slept."

  "I'm hoping Jane wasn't disappointed."

  "Actually she was because she wanted to play with her papa."

  "How long have I slept?"

  "A several hours," she announced. "It is midnight and you seem much better, I see."

  It was dark and the air on his bare face felt foreign and cool. Darcy stretched and rubbed his eyes. He pushed up on his elbow. "I need to get up. I slept enough."

  "It is one in the morning," she responded as he sat with his bare back to her. "Please stay." He felt the bed dip as she sat up, scooting closer and sliding her arms around his shoulders. "What can I do to convince you to stay?"

  He shrugged away in annoyance. "Nothing. Go back to sleep. You should rest."

  "Have- Have I done something?" She asked confused. "Are you still angry about that night? You said to tell you-"

  "No, I'm not angry about that," he blurted out. "I'm not angry with you at all. I don't want you to think that."

  "Are you angry with the thing with Georgiana?" she guessed.

  He shook his head tersely. "No."

  Elizabeth slid her fingertips down his shoulder, then arm as she leaned closer and whispered into his ear, "I want you to stay with me."

  "Stop it," he ordered curtly, and she moved back.

  "What is wrong? If you are not angry with me, what has changed? You are not yourself. Last time, you seemed different. I do not think you wanted me so much as you wanted to prove something. I know you have so much on your mind but…"

  Darcy sat on the edge of the bed, watching his feet dangle and curling his fingers around the corner of the mattress. He told his legs to get up and leave but they refused. "It's too soon after the baby," he murmured. "And too soon for you to be having another."

  "That is not the only option and you know it. I will do whatever you desire. I want to do whatever you need but you have to tell me what that is."

  He clenched his teeth as he worried his tongue around his mouth. She was right, they might argue about everything else under the sun but they'd always been agreeable in bed.

  "Fitzwilliam," she mumbled, stroking his shoulder again. "What is it? I miss you. What has happened?"

  If he could have applied the concept of rape to a man that was what he'd tell her had happened. Lillian was no stranger to men's bodies, and she'd known no matter what his body might have craved in its laudanum haze, he'd never be unfaithful to Anne. He'd trusted her to take care of him when he was weak but instead, according to her, she'd taken advantage of a weak moment.

  Elizabeth was still watching him, wanting to know what she'd done wrong when the answer was nothing. He exhaled and answered hesitantly, "it's not- it's not what you think. Yes, something happened. I wish it hadn't, but it did and I can't stop thinking about it. It's like dirt I can't wash off my skin. I thought I could but I can't. I didn't know it would be like that. I thought I could just forget about it. I didn't tell you because I was embarrassed and ashamed and I didn't want to hurt you. I'm still ashamed. You were big with Olivia and then you were so sick and almost died and I didn't think you'd ever know…"

  He heard her take a shaky breath, misunderstanding. He ordered his mouth to open and explain, however humiliating the explanation was but the words just wouldn't come. And once the moment passed, it was lost.

  "What did I do-"

  "Nothing. You did nothing wrong. It had nothing to do with you, Elizabeth. Please forgive me," he mumbled, knowing couldn't possi
bly fix anything. It was probably better to let her think it had been a two-pound whore in a brothel than Lillian. Brothel whores were faceless. Lillian wasn't. Lillian had diapered Jane and made their bed and lived in their home. And he'd sworn to Elizabeth on numerous occasions he'd never been with her.

  "I think I would like you to leave now," she intoned. "If you would, please."

  He nodded, stood and grabbed his boots as he left.

  *~~*~~*

  The house was so big, he could live there and being unseen by anyone from his family. The only time he'd seen Elizabeth in last week was when Jane had a nightmare and he'd heard her calling for papa. By the time he'd gotten to her, Elizabeth was already in the nursery rocking her. Darcy had watched from the doorway for a few seconds, waiting for Elizabeth to say something and then turned and left silently when she hadn't.

  They were having separated meals and when one of them was with children, another was elsewhere. It was a big house, they managed it perfectly.

  It was almost one in the morning but Elizabeth was sitting on the armchair in the library as he came in. Darcy hesitated, knowing she didn't want to see him and almost turned away before he realised she was asleep. The book she must have been reading now was laying down on the floor near her foot.

  He tried to be quiet but Elizabeth looked up as he closed the door, disoriented. She inhaled, blinked, and shook her head to clear it, then stood.

  "Forgive me, I am leaving now. The library is yours, Mr. Darcy."

  "Stop it! Please. Slap me. Say I'm a lying rascal and tell me to get the hell away from you but stop treating me like I'm a stranger you live in the same house with. Just say you hate me!" He didn't have the courage to look at her but as far as he could tell, she didn't move. "Forgive me," he continued miserably. "However angry and disappointed you are, I'm three times as angry and disappointed at myself. I would kill to make it go away, to never think about it again but I can't. And now, neither can you. You're going to think about it every time you look at me. And, and I don't know how to fix that. To fix this. I never wanted this, you, me, us, this." He looked up and gestured around the library. "Keeping up appearances. I'd rather be living in a shack and starving than have you look at me like that."