“I think of you out here often, Lizzy,” he whispered into her hair. “More beautiful than the stars, with your eyes shining like diamonds. You are as fresh and unspoilt as these roses.” He nuzzled against the softness atop her head. “I do not deserve you.”
Darcy waited for Elizabeth to tense or push him away. He waited for her to remind him of his sins and what brought them together was not mutual love but his penchant for destruction. Instead, she tilted her head up and smiled at him as she caressed his face with a hand. He leaned into it and shut his eyes. The gentle touch did more to heal the wounds of his heart than any words ever could. Hearing a rustle of fabric, he opened his eyes just as Elizabeth brushed her lips against his.
He staggered back as every part of him felt aflame.
“Did…did I do something wrong?” Elizabeth asked and chewed her bottom lip. “Did you not like it?” She turned her face from him.
In one long step, Darcy was in front of her, so close their chests touched giving him the most exquisite torture. “I have wanted your kiss from almost the first moment I met you. Nothing could feel better—”
His words were extinguished when Elizabeth placed both hands on his face and pulled his mouth to hers. Asking no more questions, Darcy wrapped his arms around her waist and worshipped his goddess with unwavering devotion.
The next morning, as he opened his eyes fearing it had all been a dream, he was greeted by the sight of Elizabeth’s head resting on his heart and her arm draped across his chest.
*****
Darcy knew he should have asked after Elizabeth’s change of heart, but first, he was too afraid and then he had no time. Disaster struck, and it threatened to undo everything he had worked for. Once during their engagement, Elizabeth asked after his relationship with Wickham, and he had pushed her feelings aside. When her sister Lydia went to Brighton with the Regiment, no one thought to ask him or mention it to him. Indeed, while he had thought it unwise, he would not have considered her a target for Wickham.
A few days after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner arrived at Pemberley, Elizabeth received two letters from Jane. Lydia had eloped with Wickham, but it was not believed they had continued to Scotland. They hid somewhere in London. The Gardiners immediately left to help. Elizabeth withdrew to her chamber. He whispered words of comfort to her, but she refused to speak. Determined to see her smile again, Darcy decided to leave for Town two days later. Georgiana would watch over Elizabeth.
Once in London, Darcy left no stone unturned until he located Georgiana’s former governess who had schemed with Wickham to cash in her dowry. For a few guineas, the woman ratted out her one-time lover and directed Darcy to his location. After finding the couple and unable to convince Lydia to leave the man, he persuaded her to return to Gracechurch Street until the wedding. The following day, Darcy arrived at Wickham’s rooms with a magistrate and a stack of Wickham’s debts he now owned.
“What is this?” Wickham scowled. “You would not send me to debtor’s prison! What would your father say?”
Darcy said nothing and let Wickham continue with his usual line of defence.
“You have not forgotten, have you, how he favoured me?”
“I have not,” Darcy said through grit teeth. “You will sign these papers,” Darcy put down a second stack, “which commit you to marrying Miss Lydia and purchasing an ensigncy in the Regulars or you will pay the consequences of your misdeeds.”
After staring at Wickham without flinching for several long seconds, the other man picked up the pen and signed the papers. He paused at the last one. “What is this?”
“Read it for yourself,” Darcy said.
Wickham looked at the magistrate. “Is this legal? If I speak the truth—the truth mind you, not a lie—of Darcy or Miss Darcy’s birth, I will be deported to Australia without trial?”
The man shrugged. “A private agreement between two people can contain any number of things. You give up the right to speak openly by not going to Newgate now. At any rate, such talk would lean toward blackmail, and you certainly are not asking me if you should retain such a right. My, that could be construed as an admission of guilt or an intention of crime.”
Wickham held up his hand. “Very well.” He angrily signed the final missive.
Darcy remained in London until Wickham and Lydia married. They then visited at Longbourn. Darcy sent for Elizabeth so she could visit her family. He stayed in town, unable to be in company with Wickham.
After the unfortunate couple left, Darcy took up residence at Netherfield and Elizabeth joined him. Words could not describe the stirring in his heart as he had his wife to hold again. After their sweet reunion as she laid her head against his chest and drifted to sleep, he thought she whispered the three words he had waited his whole life to hear. The next day, however, she acted no different than before. Darcy observed her over the next few days and concluded she merely missed sharing her bed with him given how often she invited—even begged—for him to join her there.
They returned to Pemberley for Michaelmas, and as a year had lapsed since they first met, Darcy could hardly believe how much had happened in that time. He had once said she could not tempt him to dance. He had once claimed she had no beauty. Now, she could drive him mad with a glance. Now, she was the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Still, he increasingly wondered if he would ever gain her love.
*****
As their first Christmas together approached, Darcy wondered what to give Elizabeth. She had something up her sleeve if her blushing every time she looked at him was any indication. When he presented her with a new writing set, she beamed at him.
“I regret that we cannot see your family more,” he said.
“Yes, they are much further than fifty miles away,” she said saucily and winked.
Darcy grinned to see her tease him over a remark from months ago; before they had married and felt the peace they now did. Her eyes soon took on an affectionate quality, and he thought he might drown in them. Elizabeth blushed and reached for a package to her side then extended her arm to him.
Darcy reverently touched the paper. He had received so few gifts in his life. “Thank you, Elizabeth. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Of course, I think of you! Open it, silly,” she laughed, and Georgiana joined in.
Flushing at his awkwardness, Darcy opened the paper and found a collection of handkerchiefs with roses and stars embroidered.
“My first efforts were not very proficient,” Elizabeth murmured shyly. “I am happy to say that I improved with practice.”
“I love them,” Darcy said and kissed her cheek, causing her and Georgiana to blush.
How many hours had she spent on these? And she thought of him the whole time. He feared his heart might burst from the joy of it all. That night, in her chambers, something even more significant occurred.
“I love you,” Elizabeth said as she cuddled to him before falling asleep.
Wrapping his arms around her, Darcy smiled so widely he felt facial muscles stretching he had never used before. He held Elizabeth tightly to his chest the rest of the night.
In the morning, she found him in his study. They were to hand out the Boxing Day gifts to the tenants, and the butler had just departed from collecting the bonuses for the household staff. Darcy welcomed her in, and she settled on his lap, placing her arms around his neck.
“Darling,” she said as he rested his head on hers. “I wanted to tell you now, so you might decide when we should inform the rest of the estate.”
Darcy lifted his head as a feeling of anticipation filled him. “Yes?”
“There will be a Darcy heir in the Spring.” She grinned and kissed him.
“You are certain?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I have had suspicions for months and began feeling it move last week.”
“When will she come?” Darcy grinned, thinking of a bright-eyed girl just like Elizabeth.
“It may be a he,” Elizabeth laughed. “Aro
und our wedding anniversary.”
Unable to contain his joy he shot out of his chair and twirled his wife in his arms while laughing. When Darcy set her down, he kissed her deeply while feeling the clouds of his past disappear. They had love. They had happiness.
He had never before enjoyed visiting the tenants so much. In the past, seeing their happy families only reminded him of his broken one. Today, however, he felt whole. At the last house, however, Elizabeth’s cheerfulness visibly dimmed. Although she insisted she only felt tired and needed a nap, Darcy could not resist worrying about her. His mother had never been well during her confinements. Thoughts of his mother only reminded him of the secrets he still kept from Elizabeth. He shoved the guilt aside. The information was of such little consequence, he would tell her at the right time. Why ruin their happiness?
As the weeks wore on, Darcy’s fears proved correct. Elizabeth suffered from bouts of insomnia and minor illnesses. Her typical energy disappeared. He also thought better of the timing of her declaration of love. She did not love him. She liked that he had given her a baby. Elizabeth never held back her feelings or words for anything else. If she truly loved him, she would say it often. Instead, she never uttered it again.
When her time for confinement came, Darcy paced about a downstairs room in dread of losing her forever. Mrs. Bennet arrived to assist with the birth, and Darcy found he, at last, had a use for the woman. She crowed in happiness at Elizabeth bearing a son. That night, as Darcy held the woman and son he loved beyond all reason, he vowed to himself he would say nothing to mar their paradise. He had no reason to open the wounds of his past.
More than twenty years later, he learned to repent that vow and all the things he left unsaid.
Chapter Ten
March 15, 1837
Twenty-five Years Later
Darcy left his study in search of his family. There were matters to arrange before they journeyed to London for the Season. Now that their eldest daughter had married, they should not need to spend so long a time in Town. Will did not need them, and Ben would be busy with Cambridge much of the time. Their younger daughter, Betsy, would not be coming out until next year.
“Now, practice like this,” Elizabeth said, and laughter ensued.
“Did you really have to do this, Ellie?” Darcy heard Betsy ask her cousin as he stood outside the door.
Jane and some of her daughters were visiting. The Bingleys had moved to an estate only thirty miles from Pemberley within a year of their marriage. Darcy smiled as he knew the joy the cousins found in each other.
“No, silly, watch again,” Ellie said with oohs and ahhs following. “You had better learn fast for you only have a few weeks.”
Darcy opened the door with a scowl on his face. The occupants of the room immediately froze, clearly caught in the act. “Betsy will not be presented at court until next year.”
Jane quickly looked between husband and wife and stood. “My dears, let us take a walk after spending all morning in here with these dusty garments.” She curtsied to Darcy. “Come, you too, Betsy.”
Darcy did not watch them leave as his eyes remained locked with Elizabeth’s. Hearing the door close, he raised a brow.
“We have discussed this,” he folded his arms across his chest. “You know I want her to wait. Anne did not enter Society until she was nearly nineteen.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “They have very different dispositions and Anne’s birthday is in the summer. It was either enter at seventeen or wait until nearly nineteen.”
“Georgiana chose the same.”
“Again, you are not considering the difference in their personalities,” Elizabeth said and began shaking out the old court dress she had unpacked to practice curtseys with.
“She loves it too much,” Darcy said. “She loves frivolity and London.”
“That is not a crime,” Elizabeth sighed.
Darcy closed his eyes. After all these years, he still had not explained about his mother. He saw that same liveliness in Betsy. Between her beauty and her fortune, she would capture the eye of many suitors and probably make an impulsive choice. In her blood were the errors of a grandmother and two aunts.
“She will be eighteen next week,” Elizabeth said. “You cannot keep her a child forever. If we do not allow her these freedoms, she will take them anyway.”
“Why will you not bow to me in this, Elizabeth?” Darcy asked and took a step forward. “I had thought you, at least, respected me.”
“What do you mean?” she asked and lifted her chin defiantly. “Do not turn this around on me. I have been a good wife, but I will not sit by as you attempt to impose your selfish disdain for the feelings of others! Think beyond your arrogance and conceit and see that you may be wrong.”
Darcy stepped backward. Where had such a thing come from? This was the Elizabeth from his Hunsford proposal. Her eyes flashed in the same anger, which he had only seen glimpses of in their marriage. She had thought that of him, had she? All these years while he thought she cared for him, she had been concealing her implacable hate.
Grasping for his anger, just as he had lo those many years ago, he took a step forward. Elizabeth gasped and looked away, but he would not allow it.
“Look at me,” he demanded, and she obeyed. “I know you have never loved me. I know you never could in all these years, but I will not tolerate public mockery. Now, say you will tell Betsy to wait. We must be united in this no matter how much you hate me.”
A sob came from Elizabeth’s mouth, and she pulled a hand up to cover it while doubling over. Darcy stepped forward in concern, but she held her other hand up to keep him away. Straightening, she exhaled, but pain and regret lingered in her eyes.
“I cannot speak of this at present, Fitzwilliam. I am going for a walk.”
Before Darcy could say anything else, she darted from the room.
Believing it just another argument, he returned to his study and did not emerge when Jane and her daughters left. He had assumed Elizabeth returned inside with them. At tea time, she did not join him. Despite a desire to seek her out, he did not move. They did not argue frequently, but when they did, he had learned Elizabeth needed time to overcome her anger. Often, she would not intend to join him, but he would find her and apologise, earning one from her as well. Not this time. No, this time he would remain firm. He was right, and he knew it. She would come to him with her apologies first.
As he attempted to enjoy his tea and biscuits without her by his side for the first time in five and twenty years, he mulled over the services he had done her and her family. Kitty had married a Derbyshire gentleman with a small estate and Mary wed the vicar of Kympton. Only Lydia lived far away, and she visited once or twice a year. He could not stand to see Wickham, but the man had had held true to his contract. In return, Darcy assisted him in his career. Believing it better to have the man employed, and in something as rigid as the army, than free to make his own fortune, Darcy secured Wickham a position as adjutant to a general. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet often visited Pemberley before they passed.
Was it too much to ask that she do one thing for him? Just allow him one more year with his little girl. Scowling at the thought which proved her point, he returned to his desk. After another hour or two, his work was completed, and he rang for the butler to take the stack of letters. Half went in the mail and the other half to the land steward.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” young Reynolds, who had taken over for his father a few years before, said, “but Mrs. Darcy has not returned from her walk, and the sun will set soon.”
Darcy’s eyes slid to the clock. She had been gone six hours! It was no secret she was their favourite and no secret she was an exemplary mistress. Despite her humble origins, she managed the estate with more grace, generosity and good sense than the ladies in most of London's oldest families. Mrs. Bennet had taught her to be an excellent hostess, and Mr. Bennet taught her insight and wisdom. Darcy knew that now, but learning to value her relation
s came too late in their marriage to make a difference. Elizabeth remained forever sensitive over their positions in life.
Belatedly, he realised that she must have been hurt when he insisted Betsy not come out. She must have thought he believed her as inept as her own mother was on the subject. However, it was his mother he had worried about. Shaking his head, he realised the long overdue conversation with Elizabeth could be put off no longer. He stood, pulling on his coat and forming an apology in his mind.
“I will find her. If I do not return in an hour, send others,” Darcy said as he exited the house.
After an hour, dread filled his heart. It was unlike Elizabeth to stay out after dark. He was just beginning to convince himself that she must have returned a different route when he heard a gardener calling for Mrs. Darcy and the gleam of a lantern. He jogged over.
Hearing that she had not come to the house felt like a knife in his heart. “I have not yet checked this path. Over here,” he motioned to the gardener, and they walked for several minutes before making out a figure of something in the road.
Darcy inhaled sharply as he considered it too big to be a sheep or deer. The gardener did likewise but said nothing.
“I will go,” Darcy said and held out his hand for the lantern.
A cloud rolled by, bathing the path in moonlight and Darcy screamed, then ran.
“Lizzy!”
A woman’s lifeless figure lay before him. He reached her in seconds and set the lantern down.
“Lizzy, Elizabeth, where are you hurt?”
He touched her shoulder, and her head rolled. Lifeless eyes stared up at him.
“Oh God!” Darcy sobbed and scooped her into his arms. “No, anything but this. No!”
He pressed his ear to her chest, hoping to hear a beat or feel respiration. Instead, he felt the stickiness where her blood had trickled down her head from a gash.
The Secrets of Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (Jane Austen Reimaginings Book 9) Page 8