A Matter of Honor

by Abigail Reynolds

  Yours, more than my own,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  Margaret returned about an hour later, long after Elizabeth had dried her tears and washed her face.

  Elizabeth closed the novel she had been failing to distract herself with. “Yes, Margaret?” She hoped it was a simple household matter, because she doubted her ability to answer any question more significant than whether there should be bacon or ham at breakfast. She certainly had no idea what to do about Darcy or Lord Matlock.

  Margaret curtsied. “Forgive me for troubling ye again, miss. That horrid Colonel Fitzwilliam is asking to speak to you. He reeks of whisky, and he will not accept a refusal from me. What should I do?”

  Poor Colonel Fitzwilliam! Hearing about his wife in India had softened Elizabeth towards him, and it was hardly surprising that learning of his father’s interference might lead him to imbibe to excess. “No need to worry. I will go out and speak to him.”

  “Thank you, miss.”

  A distraction from her own thoughts would not go amiss, either. Elizabeth tightened the belt of her woolen dressing gown, threw a shawl over her shoulders, and stepped into the outer sitting room. Margaret trailed behind her as a chaperone.

  The colonel’s hair was tousled and he wobbled a little as he bowed. “Thank you for speaking to me.”

  “Of course. Was there something you wish to ask me?”

  “Not ask you. Tell you.” He blinked owlishly at her. “Forgive me. I am not quite sober. But if you love Darcy, you should marry him. Right now. Not because of my father, but because life is too short. Every moment together that you sacrifice for propriety or appearances or family name or what have you is one moment you will regret losing someday. Do not do it. Love’s the most important thing, don’t you know? Do not waste it.” He staggered, catching himself by grabbing the back of a chair. “Damn, I am as drunk as David’s sow. Four sheets to the wind.”

  With a warm smile, Elizabeth held out her hand to him. “I thank you for your sage advice, Colonel. And I hope that when I am married to Mr. Darcy, you will permit me to write to your wife. I want her to know there is someone in your family who would welcome her acquaintance.”

  To her astonishment, his eyes grew shiny. “She thinks I am never going back,” he said thickly. “Lots of Englishmen do that, abandon their Indian wives. She has never said so in her letters, but I know she is thinking it.” He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth.

  “Then she will have a very joyful surprise when you arrive at her door and tell her you will never leave her again,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Now go to bed, Colonel, and we will speak more in the morning.”

  He bowed over her hand, bade her good night, and shuffled from the room.

  She watched after him, shocked at herself. How had that happened? Without planning it, she had told him she was marrying Darcy. Apparently, sometime while her thoughts were still wavering, her heart must have made up its mind.

  She would marry Darcy. Well.

  A dreamy smile slipped across her face as she returned to her bedroom.

  Chapter 18

  DARCY DRANK IN THE sight of Elizabeth, who came to breakfast in a dress he had not seen before, a confection of rose muslin enlivened with colorful embroidery of spring flowers. It was more elegant than what she wore most days. Dare he hope it was for his sake?

  She gave him a shy smile before filling her plate and then, miracle of miracles, coming to sit beside him. Warmth flooded him. It was true, then. She would have sat elsewhere otherwise.

  “Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.” He tried to imbue the everyday words with all the love he felt for her. “You look lovely, a much-needed breath of spring this morning.”

  “Thank you. There must be some spring magic in the air today. I had anticipated being greeted by grieving, miserable servants and finding you wearing your most difficult, proper expression to guard yourself from potential ill tidings, but instead everyone seems ready for celebration.” The teasing twinkle in her eyes, though, suggested this was not a mystery to her. “Dare I suppose the good colonel put a word in your ear?”

  “Richard? I have not seen him this morning. But the maid who was polishing the upstairs floors and the footman who was shadowing Richard lest he fall down the stairs in a drunken stupor seem to have told everyone what you said. As for your servants, your steward has been holding forth to anyone who will listen about my suggestions for investing in the estate, and Jasper has been spreading the word that I am a generous landlord, so the servants are almost reconciled to the idea that you might choose me instead of MacLaren.” The number of shillings he had handed out to those servants brave enough to offer him their congratulations had not hurt, either, but it was a good investment in staff morale. “As for me, it taught me to hope as I had scarcely allowed myself to hope before.”

  She glanced around at the number of people in the room, all of whom seemed to be doing their utmost to look as if they were not listening eagerly. “Well, I do not think I have the heart to disappoint the servants two days in a row,” she said lightly. “So I suppose you may hope.”

  His heart began to pound, filled to bursting with unreasoning joy. Elizabeth would be his! His hand, seemingly of its own volition, reached under the table to grasp hers, and she allowed him to intertwine his fingers with hers. Oh, heaven!

  Now everyone was smiling at them, and he did not even care.

  “There are a few details I would like to discuss in private,” she said softly. “Perhaps with no more than a few servants listening in.”

  “Good luck!” said Mrs. MacLean with a broad smile. “The staff seem to feel every inch of this house needs to be cleaned and polished today. Especially those parts of the house nearest you.”

  The two footmen standing by the side table exchanged guilty grins. Such behavior would never be tolerated at Pemberley or Darcy House, but today it seemed oddly endearing. Then again, nothing could cloud his joy today.

  “I HAD BEST SIT HERE,” said Elizabeth, choosing a chair several feet from him. “I do want to discuss certain details, and if I am closer, I suspect my mind will not be on our conversation.”

  Darcy gave serious thought to trying to dissuade her, but she was right. If she were within arm’s reach, words would be the furthest thing from his mind, and he might need his wits about him for this discussion. “Very well.” He hoped it would not be a long conversation.

  “I realized last night that my one remaining qualm about marrying you has to do with my aunt. I worry I will never see her. Pemberley is four days’ travel from Edinburgh; London is a week at best; and she cannot leave Edinburgh for long because of the theatre.”

  “You will miss her a great deal,” Darcy said softly. Of course that would be a concern for her.

  “Before I met her, I never knew what it would be like to have a loving mother. I was always my mother’s least favorite, and she was happy to announce my faults to all and sundry. Even my father called all of us silly. I thought I did not mind until my aunt showed me what I was missing. I may have known her less than a year, but I have been longing for someone like her all my life.” She seemed to collect herself suddenly. “I would like to be able to visit her in Edinburgh from time to time.”

  “If visiting Edinburgh is important to you, we will do it. In general, I spend part of the year at Pemberley and part in London, but I would not object to less time in London. In fact, it might make sense.”

  She looked dubious. “How would it make sense?”

  “Apart from avoiding my aunt and uncle? Purely as a financial matter. Keeping Darcy House open is expensive, and in the last day I have agreed to several very large expenditures – MacLaren’s mortgages and starting a business in India for Richard among them, and I would like to make some investments in the estate here if your aunt permits it. I also have the expense of Georgiana’s first season coming up in two years. There is enough money for all of it, but shuttering Darcy House until Georgiana’s first season would ma
ke it easier.”

  “I did wonder when you made those offers! Ten thousand pounds a year sounds like an unimaginable fortune, but even that must have its limits. It was very generous of you.”

  “It was the right thing to do. I spent the last week detesting MacLaren with every ounce of strength I possessed, but I truly admired what he did on your behalf. Few men I know would have done the same.”

  Her smile showered him with warmth. “I am very glad you offered it, not least because otherwise I might have felt obliged to marry him anyway. I disliked this place when I first arrived, but I have developed a certain affection for the people here, and I would hate to see them suffer.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Thank God he had made that offer!

  “I was proud of you for offering to help your cousin start a business in India, and it did acquit you of any selfish interest regarding my inheritance.” Her eyes sparkled at him.

  “Your inheritance?” He had no idea what she was talking about, but as long as she kept smiling at him, he was happy.

  She picked up a small carving of an Indian elephant from the table beside her. “My late uncle’s business, which now belongs to Aunt Emmeline, is in Indian fabrics and objets d’art. It has been quite successful. They are always looking for representatives in India.”

  He blinked in surprise. It had never occurred to him to wonder what her uncle’s business had been. “Oh. I have been rather single-minded, have I not?”

  “Charmingly so. My aunt met her husband just after he first returned to England from India. He landed in London and decided to enjoy a visit there before returning to Scotland. Naturally, he went to the theatre, saw my aunt perform, and fell in love. It is a delightful story as she tells it.”

  “I hope I will hear it one day.” He paused before plunging ahead. “Would a long visit to Edinburgh once a year be satisfactory? And naturally your aunt would always be welcome at Pemberley.”

  “Thank you. That is very generous of you.”

  She sounded so earnest that he could not help laughing. “Elizabeth, has it not yet occurred to you that I would agree to circumnavigate the globe if it would make you happy? I hope you will always tell me what you wish for, so I may have the pleasure of granting it.”

  “You are the most generous of souls! And your letter touched me very much in how you tried to leave decisions to me. I know that is a struggle for you.” But her eyes were sparkling and her voice teased him.

  “I do not deny that you may have to hold me in check on occasion,” he said humbly. “Are there other matters you wish to discuss?”

  Elizabeth said hesitantly, “There is one thing I worry about. I do not know how well I will be able to step back into the role of a proper lady after all these months among theatricals. I will try, but it will feel artificial. I fear I may appear to be overly outspoken and heedless of propriety.”

  “That does not trouble me. There will be times when we both will have to put on our proper manners, but they will not be frequent.” It might have worried the man he had been when they had first met, but not now. “But I do await with some trepidation your views on the timing of the wedding you have not yet agreed to have.”

  That made her laugh, as he had hoped. Even better, she came to stand beside his Bath chair and took his hand, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Yes, I will marry you,” she said softly.

  Something indescribable rushed through him, relief, pleasure, triumph, and gratitude all mixed together with something that felt like silvery sparks of joy. “Thank you,” he breathed, though words were beyond inadequate. She was going to be his wife! He turned his head to brush his lips against the soft skin of her hand, breathing in her scent of lavender and soap. Elizabeth was his at last.

  She caught her breath. That tiny sound unleashed a flood of need inside him, and instinct took over.

  He tugged at her hand, caught her around the waist, and toppled her onto his lap. The Bath chair rocked back and forth precariously, but he did not care, not when her lithe, warm body was pressed on his thighs, and his arm encircled her. Yes, this was how it should be.

  She stiffened and cried, “Oh! Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” he murmured. The knife that stabbed at his ribs did not count. It was an infinitesimal price to pay to hold Elizabeth in his arms at last. And she had not objected apart from worrying that he might be hurt.

  With his forefinger he gently turned her chin towards him. Out of some miraculous hidden reserve, he found the self-control to lower his mouth to hers slowly, giving her time to protest. He willed her not to make that protest.

  Instead, her lips parted slightly, and she leaned forward to meet him.

  God in heaven!

  He brushed his lips up against the warm silk of hers, once, twice, and again, her breath mingling with his. When she did not draw back, he let his tongue tease her lips farther apart. Slowly. He had to go slowly. Elizabeth was an innocent, and he could easily frighten her by demanding too much too quickly. Just a quick taste of her and... But there was the sweetness of her tongue reaching out and meeting his, sending a powerful surge of desire straight to his loins.

  Her tongue fenced with his as he explored her mouth. Good Lord, she might be an innocent but she clearly learned quickly! And he could feel her arch against him, the passion he had always sensed in her coming to life. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer, closer to her, and closer to losing his mind. But the taste of her!

  He had to slow this down, or he would lose control completely. Somehow he tore his mouth from hers and began to tease her face with kisses, his hands stroking the side of her neck. He let his lips follow his fingers, and Elizabeth moaned, tilting her head to allow him greater access. Over her pulse, down to where her neck met her shoulder, along her collarbone to the sensitive notch in the middle, and the sheer satisfaction of feeling her arch even further as he let his tongue play there.

  She intoxicated him, and he ached with the need to make her his. Her response, so much like his dreams, and the round curve of her bottom pressing against him, sent desires spinning through him. His lips traveled lower, towards the promised land of her neckline, over the swell of her flesh. Her little whimpers drove him on.

  He could not get enough of her. He needed more, needed to possess her. Later, later. For now he reclaimed her mouth, drowning in the passion of her, as his hand explored the virgin territory of her calf—

  “Good God!” Mrs. Graham cried. “I thought my duties were ended when your aunt arrived.”

  Elizabeth leaped off his lap, making the Bath chair rock furiously. “Forgive us,” she said. “We have just become engaged.”

  “Well and good, but ye were engaged to another man yesterday,” grumbled Mrs. Graham. “Ye need to set a better example than that, lass.”

  Elizabeth hung her head. “You are correct.” But there was a hint of laughter in her voice.

  Mrs. Graham snorted. “Somehow I doubt ye were the one to start it. As for you, Mr. Darcy, I expect no apology, because I doubt ye have a single regret.”

  Darcy managed to rein himself in from the wild current of desire still pulsing through him, but his happiness could not be suppressed even by a well-deserved scolding. “Not true. I regret being caught.”

  Mrs. Graham gave a reluctant laugh. “Men! This is why I needed a holiday from my sons. And I do not trust either of ye, so I am going to sit in that corner.”

  “Quite right,” said Elizabeth. “And I know you must be disappointed that I am not marrying your nephew. He is a good man, and he deserves a better wife than I could be to him.”

  The older woman sniffed as she sat down and ostentatiously opened her book.

  Darcy cleared his throat. “Let me see. Where were we? Oh, yes. Have you an opinion on the timing of the wedding?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes were still dark with desire, but she sat in a chair a proper distance from him before looking up at him through her eyelashes. “I have dithered for hours over the advantage
s and disadvantages either way. This morning my maid Margaret gave me some very practical advice. She said that when I look back on this ten years from now, the timing will make no difference to me. There is no correct answer as to when to marry, only that we should do it. So if marrying soon will provide an advantage to the case against Lord Matlock, let us do it.”

  “You will hear no complaints from me,” Darcy’s voice was almost a growl. “But I wish to leave no legal questions about our marriage. That means a signed settlement, a clergyman to perform the wedding, and witnesses. Specifically, my uncle would find it embarrassing to challenge the legality of a wedding witnessed by Richard. If we are to allow time to get Hollings back from Glasgow to do the settlements, we are looking at perhaps three or four days.”

  Elizabeth arched an eyebrow with a teasing glint in her eye. “Three or four days should be more than adequate for my preparations. But perhaps now we can have a little of the peace and quiet I am told is customary here in the winter. When I came here, my aunt told me I would be all alone because no one ever goes to the Highlands in winter. No one except you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, your sister, my aunt, Mr. Fitzpatrick, and Mrs. Graham, who was, to be fair, almost here already. A few days of quiet would not go amiss!”

  THE NEXT DAY STARTED quietly enough. Darcy spent the morning meeting with Duncan MacLaren and the Kinloch House steward drawing up plans for the MacLaren lands. Now that MacLaren was no longer engaged to Elizabeth, Darcy could bring himself to allow that he was a sensible, decent fellow with a good head on his shoulders. A definite improvement from fantasies of the most expedient ways to kill him.

  Afterwards they adjourned to the drawing room. There was no sign of Elizabeth or Jasper, who were no doubt off running lines. Mrs. MacLean, whom he was now supposed to call Aunt Emmeline, was reading while Georgiana practiced the harp under Mrs. Graham’s direction. When Darcy complimented her playing, she blushed and said, “It is only a simple piece, and having played a big harp helps.”