"She is fine, Georgie. She is only mad at me and hurt. I made a huge mess, and she hates me. And she is right to do so."
"But..."
Darcy stroked his aching forehead with his thumb, realising he was running three for three. "She needs time. We all need it." Darcy muttered through his teeth.
"She loves you. She will forgive you."
"Do you believe I am the father to Fran?"
"I don't know. Lillian said..."
"I don't care what she said to you. She was sick, Georgiana. She wasn't herself and she made up things."
"So why Elizabeth doesn't believe you?"
"How do you know she doesn't believe me? The things between me and Elizabeth are much complicated... I'm sorry this is happening and I'm sorry you have to watch it happen."
His sister nodded uncertainly. She didn't seem convinced, but she dropped the subject.
"How are you, Georgie?" Darcy asked after a few minutes of silence. "Are you happy with aunt Eleonora?"
"Yes. The uncle is a little annoy, but he is leaving for London soon."
"And you don't?"
"Aunt wants to stay in Hillcrest and I am happy there."
"I am glad."
Georgiana looked around and her eyes followed her little niece, who was playing happily with her cat. Darcy noticed the girl wanted to say something and was looking for right words.
"When I don't live here anymore, the home seems different and I feel much better as a guest here." She finally admitted but wasn't enough brave to look in her brother's eyes. "I cannot explain it and I don't want for you to feel bad about it. It just this place still keeps too many bad memories. Aunt explained this to me. That it is okay to feel that way and it shall pass away, eventually."
"I understand, I think." He whispered.
"Papa!" They heard Jane's dramatic shriek, and the man rolled his eyes.
"Oh no, is the Damnation run away again?"
"I will go to her and try to lie her down," Georgiana said and excused herself to go after her niece.
Darcy exhaled deeply. Once he found the energy to move, he stretched out on the library sofa and closed his eyes. He heard Jane's squeals with delight in the distance while Damnation probably skittered across the hall.
*~~*~~*
He left the nursery and was heading to his temporary bedroom when heard footsteps on the hall. He turned around and saw Elizabeth walking in his direction. She wore her long, white nightgown, and her hair was down, falling in dark waves almost to her waist.
"Elizabeth?" She turned to him.
"I cannot sleep and wanted to see children."
"They are sleeping," he assured her. "I just left the nursery."
Elizabeth entered their children’s room and Darcy walked behind her.
They stood next to Olivia's crib, watching the girl sleeping peacefully when Darcy said, "I'm-I'm glad to see you. I wanted to check on you but I wasn't sure... I barely see you lately." he said, equally ill at ease. They didn't talk since he has given her the letters. "Please sit down."
"I feel fine."
"Sit anyway. Make me feel better. Please?" He offered a sofa next to Olivia's crib, and she sat, tucking her nightgown around her.
"I am fine," she assured him. "Really."
He noticed his lower lip hurting and realised he was biting it.
"I-" they both said, then stopped. They both get silent.
"Elizabeth, you're cold. You're shivering," he realised.
She had her arms wrapped around her and her shoulders hunched forward, looking too small for the large armchair.
"Are you all right?" he asked, walking to her with the blanket. He squatted in front of her. The nursery was one of the warmer places in the house but she shivered, regardless. "Elizabeth? Are you unwell?"
"I am just cold."
Without thinking he put his hand on her forehead, touching her for the first time since Sunday. "You don't have a fever? You don't feel warm. In fact-" He put his hands over hers. "Your hands are like ice."
"I am all right. Just cold. Tired." She repeated.
He let go of her hands and turned away, putting two more logs on the fire.
"And hungry. You didn't eat dinner, did you?"
She didn't answer, which probably meant "yes." He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, tucking it tight. "Better?" he asked, and she nodded, shivering less violently. He felt her face again, still worried. She looked at him, her eyes darting over his face. He moved back, sitting on the rug in front of her. He poked the fire a few times, stirring the coals and leaned back, watching it smoulder.
"I still haven’t read the letters." She blurted out. "I- I am afraid." She admitted. He walked over the sofa and sit next to her. She wanted to talk, and he was ready to hear her, whatever it was.
"I, It wasn't the pride that prevented me to visit my family. Or maybe it was, I don't know. But I was frightened they have stopped love me. I was afraid of rejection. And I was angry, almost offended." She whispered. "I always believed I am loved, no matter what. But when I left for Scotland with a new husband and didn't receive from them any message, nothing... I-." She looked away.
"And you are still afraid of these letters, what you find there..."
"Yes. No. I don't know. Maybe they didn't stop love me but after they didn't receive correspondent from me they thought I gave up on them. Maybe I will read how disappointed they were with me."
"Elizabeth, not reading the letters will not help the situation."
"I am such a coward," she said with the tears in her eyes. "And I am so angry. They received nothing from me and didn't think something is not right? They thought I would just give up on them just like that? And there is only one letter from my father, one from my uncle from London and three from my sister. Nothing else. Weren't they worried about me?"
"Maybe there was more but Mr. Daniels threw them out."
"Maybe. Or maybe not. But they knew where I lived. They knew the address..." Elizabeth wiped wet cheeks.
"Forgive me I didn't give them to you five months ago as I should." he said hoarsely.
"It wouldn’t change the things. It was already too late," she whispered.
"I know you still don't trust me and still detest me for what I did, for not being honest with you, and maybe you don't feel secure enough with my affections and trust, and I can only say how terribly I feel about it but... but I really love you, Elizabeth and always will. You are my life."
He realised that after what had happened with her family when she had been worrying they gave up on her, she lost confident though never seem to show it to him. She must have been feared she will lose his love, too. He was still grieving after Anne, not noticing his wife's needs. And she has been doubting his love and devotion since he lied to her for the first time.
"You have given me so much and all I've given you is heartache, Elizabeth," he searched for the right way to say it. "And I should ask you for forgiveness. For hurting you, for lying to you, for pushing you away. I keep trying to follow my heart - to put aside my pride and listen to my heart, and my heart says, Elizabeth." She was huddled on the sofa with the baby blanket around her shoulders and her bare feet dangling a few inches above the rug. She still didn't look at him.
"You bring courage and colour and balance to my life. My world with you is vivid. My world without you is grey. You make me feel whole and I made you feel second best. But you were never second best, Elizabeth," he'd rehearsed the next part for days, so it was a little easier. "No one ever has or ever will touch the place you do in my soul. If I mistook what I felt for a lesser love, it was only because I had little previous acquaintance with the emotions. And when I think of love, I think of the overwhelming, heart-wrenching emotion I feel for you, Elizabeth." He reached out his hand and touch her cold palm. It seemed so small in his large one, he gripped it and kissed with tender and feeling.
"You are burned into my soul and I am forever transformed. You hold the other half of who I
am and half of me is missing when you are not around. But I will let you go, Elizabeth. If you cannot live with me, if you cannot love me enough I will let you go. Because I love you too much and I cannot hold you against your will. This may be the hardest thing I have ever done, that I will ever do, but I let you go. I have two more estates and house in London. You will choose when you want to live with the girls. I won't have you or them want for anything. I will visit them and will try to be the best father as I wasn't the best husband. I will let you go..."
*~~*~~*
He found her in their bedchamber, huddled with the arms around her knees on the bed. Her eyes were red from crying. She didn't jerk when he entered or looked at him when he walked to her or called her. Then he noticed the stack of opened letters near her feet.
His heart cried for her, he wanted to take her in his arms and make the pain to go away. Instead, he sat on the bed keeping the distance between them.
"My father is dead," she whispered. "He’s been dead for three years and I have been angry at him for not loving me enough." Elizabeth burst into tears again and Darcy just couldn't stand it. He moved closer to her and hugged her with his strong arms. He expected her to jerk away and asked him to leave her alone, but she didn't. She gripped his shirt and hid her face in his chest. He kissed her head and hugged tighter, keeping her as close as he could.
*~~*~~*
She lay on her sight, faced him. He stretched out on edge of their bed, laying on his back. Olivia slept securely on his chest, sucking her tiny thumb. She hasn't slept well lately; she was teething again and disturbing her elder sisters' sleep, so they took her to their room for the night.
The bedroom was dim and Elizabeth’s face was only the faintest outline of light and shadow. Her eyes remained closed, but she wasn't sleeping.
"He died two months after I had gotten married." She whispered after a long moment of silent. "It happened in the sleep. My mother had gotten ill and passed away month later. Her heart couldn't bear the fear she and my sister will be throw away by my father's heir. And that I abandoned them in the hour of need." She admitted it. She wasn't crying anymore. No tears seemed left. "But they didn't. He married Mary and wanted to take Kitty and Lydia but they had stayed in London with my uncle, for reasons not known to me. Unfortunately, Mary has stopped writing, or I didn't get it..."
"You wish to see her? Or your other sisters? We could go to London."
"No."
"Elizabeth, you should see them."
"It has been three years Fitzwilliam. I still am a coward and I am afraid what would I see? What would I hear? I don't know if I am ready for that. I hated them, my father and mother, for not caring enough for me and they were dead. What kind of daughter I became?"
"Elizabeth, you said it by yourself, they could, they should get worried by your silence. Your uncle in London could afford a trip to Scotland. They knew where you were living."
"What kind of woman..." She ignored his comment. "What kind of woman I became? I shouldn't, I cannot let you give away Francis. He is just a little boy, he didn't deserve all of it. Even Lillian didn't deserve it. If your aunt's husband hadn't left her in an orphanage, she would have had an entirely different life. She would have been different. I don't care if he is your son. You are still his uncle. He is still Fitzwilliam by blood and he is still an innocent child." Elizabeth pulled up on her hands and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard.
"We can give him home and we can love him as he deserves it. We will make for him another nursery; he will have a maid who will take care of him. We will give him an education and the future his mother couldn't. She will die soon, lonely, not wanting by anyone. We own him that, Fitzwilliam."
"You are an exceptional woman, my love." he whispered not wanting to wake his daughter who just pulled out the thumb from her mouth and drooled on his shirt.
"And you are an exceptional man, the best I have ever known." She smiled fondly. "What have you said the other day in nursery, was the most beautiful and honest things I have ever heard," she whispered. "And I really love you Fitzwilliam and don't want to part from you. I never wanted to. I was mad at you and hurt but I never really wanted to leave you. How could I? I remember a time when I wished I had died with Jane. Eventually, the ache in my heart faded and left behind only emptiness. I married a man I barely knew, and who I knew did not love me. I thought it would not matter because I thought there was nothing left alive inside me to feel. My heart was broken, but it healed and has continued to beat, for Jane, and then for you, Fitzwilliam. When you asked me to marry you, I already was in love with you. But I was afraid to admit it. I was hurt and disappointed by my family and by my fake husband. I didn't want to be rejected again. I was afraid to feel it again. I was telling myself I am doing it only for Jane. But I really wanted you."
Darcy kissed his daughter's head and carefully laid her down on the pillow.
"Do you think we can leave her here?" He smiled affectionately. "And I could lay here on the other said of the bed, just keep her safe when she decides to roll over?"
"Fitzwilliam, you don't have to use your daughter for sleeping in our bed." Elizabeth curled down on the mattress and under the shit. "It is still our bed."
Just then they heard a loud cry coming from the nursery. Darcy looked at Elizabeth with a little smirk on his face. "Well, she heard we have a little party here and didn't want to be left behind."
"The bed is still big enough." She smiled back.
“I will take her,” Darcy informed the maid, and she handed him crying Jane. The girl immediately wrapped her tiny hands around her papa’s neck. He kissed her and hugged tenderly.
"Cat," she informed him while he was caring her through the dark hallway to the master's chambers. Her sleepily and weary eyes were still wet, and she put her head on her papa's shoulder. "Me cat papa?"
"No, sweetie. Cat is sleeping. And Jane is going to sleep too." He kissed her affectionately on the cheek.
"Mama sleep?" They entered the room and looked at the Elizabeth still lying on her side of the bed.
"Mama sleep. And papa sleep. And Olivia sleep. And Jane sleep." He was whispering playfully laying the girl on the mattress.
"Mama sleep?" The girl had turned around and crawled up to her mother, cuddling. Elizabeth kissed her and hugged tightly toying with Jane's dark curls. But when she heard Darcy laying down on the other side of the bed, she pulled out from her mama's arms and crawled to her papa passing her sleeping sister.
"Papa sleep?" Jane cuddled to him and rested her head on his shoulder but he didn't manage to hug her properly when she pulled out and crawled back to her mama. It seemed like Jane found her another favourite game and Elizabeth didn't let her out this time.
"Jane sleep here, with mama."
"Papa sleep?"
"Yes, papa is sleeping, Olivia is sleeping and mama is sleeping. And if Jane isn’t sleeping, she is going to her bed in the nursery." Jane immediately stopped the game and cuddled tighter to her mama.
"Me sleep?" She said unconvincingly, her eyelids got heavy. Elizabeth kissed her on the forehead and smiled warmly at her husband. "Me mama papa Oli sleep," the girl whispered.
Sleep they did.
*~~*~~*
He drummed his fingers on the dining room table and his feet against the rungs of his chair. It was sweet in a too-sugary kind of way. After two babies, two years of marriage, and numerous acts and positions that weren't mentioned in his old marriage manuals, Elizabeth could still give him the jitters. He heard her walking down the stairs, taking her own sweet time and oblivious to his plight. It was two week after she had read about the death of her parents. Two week after Olivia had gotten ill and the last several days were filled with caring and worrying about her fever and dry cough. It was the second day after the doctor had said Olivia is better and is getting back to health. And it was after the day Elizabeth had asked to start over. Just simply two words which meant everything for him.
"Good mornin
g," he said when she finally made it to the breakfast. He stood quickly, sending his chair squeaking back a few inches.
"Good morning," she mumbled.
"Fitzwilliam Edward Darcy," he introduced himself and bowed, extending his hand. Elizabeth looked at him suspiciously. "When I was seventeen, I married my cousin, Anne de Bourgh. She was expecting my child. Anne was a great beauty. Sweet, talented, very devoted to me. And a little mad. When our son was 7 years old, she put him on the horse and killed. She wanted to die too, but she had to wait another few years. She took her own life, taking our unborn daughter with her. My thirteen-year-old sister Georgiana witnessed it. She's sixteen now and still remembers that day too vividly. When she feels like emerging from her bedroom, she's musical prodigy and artistic genius. And she leaves with her aunt now where she feels much comfortable. I am not that great brother, it seems."
Elizabeth continued looking at him as she asked, "Have you been drinking, Mr. Darcy?"
"My parents are dead," he continued ignoring her question. "I am a master of the big estate in Derbyshire and two smaller in other Counties. I have also a house in London and my uncle is the Earl. I have two little girls who are my whole world. And my first wife's half-sister says I'm her son's father. That's a long story but drugs and terrible judgments were involved."
He finished and took his seat across from her at the table, waiting expectantly. Elizabeth scratched the back of her head in confusion.
"What?" she asked sleepily.
He gestured that it was her turn.
"Elizabeth Margaret Darcy, nee Bennet," she said and sipped a hot tea. "It is nice to meet you, Mr. Darcy."
"Nice to meet you, Elizabeth Margaret Darcy. I bet there's a story behind that name."
She pointed to her cup but when he didn't give up on hearing her story, she rolled her eyes.
"I married to a man who turned out to be a bigamist. He left me alone with child where the knight in shining armour came and safe my life. He became my whole life, my husband and a man I fell in love with. We have two wonderful girls and I am a very happy woman." She said with proud.
Mr Darcy's Second Chance Page 24