by Pamela Lynne
Sebastian looked down into the amber liquid swirling about in his glass. The very fine whiskey that had tasted so good in Scotland now had no flavor. Nor had any food or drink that passed his lips the last several days. He sighed heavily as he picked up a sheet of paper from his desk. Written in a shaky hand were several names of men he thought would make suitable husbands for Mary. At least they seemed suitable the night before when the whiskey was still tasteless but served a purpose. He threw the paper back on the desk and rubbed his hand over his face.
“There must be someone among my acquaintance who could provide her with the life she wants,” he spoke into the empty room. Mary would be in town in less than a week, and he had promised to introduce her to potential marriage partners at his mother’s ball. Her new dowry and the connection to both the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams made her a desirable choice for many, but no one from his circle was good enough.
“Perhaps a prosperous tradesman looking for a way up in society?” He shook his head at the thought. “No, she should be mistress of an estate or at least have a flock to help tend.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on his chair. He relaxed his shoulders, and though he could not allow his mind to wander too far, he allowed a few moments for memories. Before much time had passed, his musings were broken by a knock on his door. His mother had summoned him to the drawing room to greet a guest in his father’s absence.
“My father has gone out?” he questioned the servant.
“No, sir. He is indisposed.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. At least someone finds the whiskey palatable. He arrived in the drawing room to find a man, small in stature and dressed neatly if not fashionably, waiting for him. He looked around, but no one else was in the room.
“I am sorry, but I understood my mother had received you.”
“No, my lord, I was shown in here and asked to wait for you.” Sebastian curiously looked at the man, trying to place his face. He could not recall where, but he was sure he had seen him before.
“You may not remember me, sir. I am Samuel Elliot. I have been the parson at Matlock for some years now.”
Sebastian shook his head in embarrassment. “Of course. Forgive me. It has been some time since I attended services.”
“Yes, I know.” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at Mr. Elliot, expecting to find judgment on his face. He was surprised to find only kindness.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Elliot?” He gestured for the man to sit before doing so himself.
“My lord, I came here hoping to see your father. I had hoped to speak to him on some matters related to the parish.”
“Have you spoken to his steward, Mr. Adams, I believe?”
“I have, my lord.”
“But not to your satisfaction?” Sebastian could see the answer on his face. “My father is unavailable and will likely remain so for some time. Perhaps I can be of assistance, Mr. Elliot.”
Sebastian hoped his discomfort did not show. The extent of his knowledge of running an estate could probably fit into a thimble. He had assumed that when he was master the steward would handle all business matters. Apparently, that was not the case.
Mr. Elliot cleared his throat and adjusted his position, apparently nervous. When he spoke, however, his voice was steady and firm.
“I am greatly concerned with the living conditions of some of your tenants, my lord. I have spoken to Mr. Adams and sent many letters here to London, yet nothing has been done. As you know, sir, we have had a very wet winter. Many have taken ill. I am afraid that much of the housing on your farms is in disrepair and has contributed to the illnesses. There are babes in these houses, my lord, and elderly women. They greatly need your attention.”
Sebastian was again embarrassed, both by his ignorance and by the fact he was being taken to task by an inferior. He had no idea how to answer the man. The natural solution was to repair the houses, but Mr. Adams likely would have already done so if the money had been available. His stomach seemed to drop to his feet as he felt the full weight of that last thought.
“Mr. Elliot, I am afraid I do not have a solution for you at present. I will need to speak to my father and send for information from Matlock. How long will you be in London?”
“I had planned to return home tomorrow, but I can stay longer if you need my assistance.”
Sebastian nodded. “Yes, please remain in town if you can. Do you have a place to stay?”
“Yes, sir, I have family here.”
Again Sebastian nodded, and he took in the man’s appearance once more. He was probably a few years older than himself. His hair was thinning, but he was in good shape; he probably did a lot of walking. He looked very much the part of a country parson.
“Mr. Elliot, are you married?” he asked as a thought began to form in his mind.
“Widowed, my lord.”
“My condolences. Any children?”
“No, my lord, my wife died after having lost our only child.”
“Again, my condolences.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Sebastian appraised him carefully, and Elliot soon began to feel like a horse up for auction.
“Is something wrong, sir?”
“Hmm? Oh no, just lost in a thought. Will you come around again tomorrow, Mr. Elliot?”
“If you wish, sir.”
“Good, I will see you then.”
He watched as the parson exited the room and wondered if it could really be that easy. He let out a long breath and thought about the problem with the tenants. He knew he needed advice, but the only person he could go to was likely to make him feel worse than he already did. There was no other choice, though; he would have to ask Darcy.
********
“How long will it be before the gowns are ready?”
“About three days, ma’am, since they only need to be altered.”
The young lady was relieved. She had left Scotland in such a rush that she did not have time to pack her belongings. She had been in the same dress for days and was feeling quite unkempt. She was sure the clerk knew she had recently eloped, given her appearance and the fact they were just over the border. She was not embarrassed, however. She was too pleased that the situation had been resolved so quickly. It had taken very little effort to convince her groom that eloping was the best solution. Indeed, he seemed just to want to make her happy. She smiled at that thought.
“Where shall we send your things, Mrs. Bingley?”
“To the inn, please.”
Jane looked around the small shop once more and noticed a few things her younger sisters would like. She felt a brief pang of guilt, but she pushed it down quickly enough. She and her husband were on their way to visit his relations, and by the time they made it back to Hertfordshire, they were all likely to be in mourning. Another pang threatened, but she stifled it as swiftly as the first. She squared her shoulders and made her way to the lodgings where her husband was waiting, determined not to think of Longbourn or her family again until she absolutely had to.
Chapter Twenty Seven
* * *
“Lizzy,” Darcy called out while searching the bed coverings for his wife. In spite of his previous warning not to start a war she could not win, she had managed to momentarily pin him to the bed and tickle him until he was breathless. When he was finally able to flip her over and attempt revenge, she wriggled from his grasp and somehow disappeared.
“You cannot hide forever, my girl,” he said as he playfully looked under the pillow then ungracefully fell onto the bed and looked on the floor. A sudden sharp pain on his backside caused him to yelp and roll over. He rose to his knees, rubbing the source of his discomfort.
“You bit me,” he cried indignantly, twisting his neck to unsuccessfully inspect his posterior for bite marks. The sound of her giggle brought his attention back to her. He roared with laughter as he watched her try to blow a cobweb from her eye. He crawled to her, grabbed her waist, and thr
ew her on the bed as she laughed loudly. He lowered his entire body onto hers, preventing another escape.
“I would say you need to speak with the maids about cleaning under the beds, but I would not have them wonder how you discovered their oversight.”
“How kind of you to want to protect my reputation, sir.”
“With the noises you make, my dear, your reputation is likely already ruined.”
Elizabeth drew a breath in shock and tried to wiggle free.
Darcy shook his head.
“You are not going anywhere.”
She stopped struggling and raised her pelvis, slowly pressing against him. “What makes you think I want to?”
“Mrs. Darcy, are you trying to seduce me?”
“Is it working?”
He lifted his head and looked at her, smiling rakishly. He lowered his face to hers, trailing kisses to her ear where he whispered no and attacked every tender area he had become acquainted with in the days since their wedding. He continued his assault until her face was red from laughter and tears ran down her cheeks.
“Enough,” she cried. “I surrender.”
He looked down upon her questioningly, not believing she had given up. “I do not trust you. If I release you now, you are likely to bite me again.”
She laughed again. “I promise not to bite you, Mr. Darcy, unless, of course, you want me to.”
The mischievous glint in her eye was too much to resist, and though he knew he was being drawn into her own retaliation, he was determined not to go down without a fight. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, his mouth moving over hers in the long strokes he knew she loved. He could tell she was trying to resist, but her body eventually relaxed, and her contented sigh told him that this battle, at least, was won. He rose up slightly, freeing her legs, which immediately wrapped around him. His mouth left hers and slowly traveled down her neck, and she arched into him when he stopped at her pulse point, sucking and licking as she moved beneath him. He continued to work his way down but stopped abruptly when he took her hardened peak into his mouth.
Elizabeth raised her head and opened her eyes to see why he had stopped. His face was fixed in a comical grimace while he spat as if he were trying to remove something distasteful from his mouth. She looked at him questioningly but laughed when he declared her too dusty to love properly and then moved to ring for a bath.
********
“Does it hurt?” Elizabeth ran her fingers over the scar that was forming on his upper arm. A wave of guilt always rushed over her when she saw it, and she would momentarily wonder if she brought too much grief into their lives. They were happy there in Scotland but were leaving the next day to travel to Longbourn, where nothing but heartache awaited them.
Darcy looked down to her hand and then back to her face. She reclined in the tub as he sat on a towel beside her, cleaning away the evidence of her expedition under the bed. He reached out and ran his finger along the line from her temple to her chin while looking in her eyes. He could see traces of the sadness in them that he saw that day at the bookshop and knew she was thinking of her family.
“It is a bit tender, but the pain has passed. It is healing.”
“You will always have the scar.” She continued to stare at it as if she were trying to will it away.
He nodded as he squeezed the water from the cloth onto her chest and watched the beads travel down. “It is impossible to go through life without acquiring a few of those along the way. Did I tell you about my conversation with Uncle Gardiner when I asked to court you?”
“You said he was very intimidating.”
He nodded. “Yes, he was, and he was also a little hesitant at first. He did not want you exposed to my family.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That is odd, considering my own. The only difference between the two is the title.”
“And a vat of brandy. I told him that if you could manage your family, then you would have no trouble with mine. I know you still harbor mixed emotions where they are concerned. I feel the same way, obviously, or I would not have allowed them to interrupt our time here to deal with Jane and Bingley and Richard and Anne. Unfortunately, we have both brought less-than-desirable relations to our marriage, but they will only hurt us if we allow it.” He paused and placed his finger under her chin and raised her face to his. “Regret and guilt serve no purpose when we are neither at fault nor have any control over the actions of others. I fear that if you go into Longbourn with that look on your face, they will eat you alive.”
She nodded. “I know you are correct. I do feel guilty, not only for what my father did to you, but also because I now have such sources of happiness while my sisters are still trapped there. I feel sorry that my mother has to care for the man who battered her and that her only source of comfort has abandoned her. Do you think we can go back and stay a while after the ball? Mary cannot continue to manage that household on her own.”
Darcy sighed. He knew it would be the right thing to do, but he was reluctant to allow Elizabeth to live among those who caused her so much pain.
“Let us see how this visit goes, and then we can speak more about it later. We cannot delay our return to Pemberley much longer. I have been away too long, and I will not go back without you.”
“Thank you.” She brought her wet hands to his face and pulled him in for a kiss. The rest of their time in Scotland was spent happily, with no more thoughts of difficult relations or what awaited them at Longbourn. They continued to love each other and gathered strength for what awaited them at the end of their journey.
********
Fanny Bennet wrung her handkerchief as she paced the floor and tried to think of anything that would distract her from the sobs coming from the adjoining room. Her nerves were completely frazzled from the nearly constant ramblings of her husband. If he was not crying, he was calling out for her or Elizabeth. If her chamber were not the nicest bedroom in the house, she would have had her things moved already.
“I do not know why my brother insisted we move back here from Netherfield. It was most high-handed of him.” She was speaking more to herself than to the other person in the room.
“Mama, I do not believe Mr. Bingley intended for you to stay there indefinitely. It would have been rude if you had stayed much longer when there was no reason for you not to come back here.”
The three remaining Bennet sisters tended their mother in shifts, and each had their own way of dealing with her rambles. Mary tried reason, which never worked, while Kitty only sat and listened, knowing she would exhaust herself eventually. Lydia, however, indulged her rants and added her own complaints. They played off each other remarkably well, leaving each too tired to converse further after an hour of tossing their bitterness and disappointment back and forth.
“Such nonsense, Mary. Of course he would want us to stay, especially now that he is married to our dear Jane.” She walked to the table to pick up the letter Jane sent explaining what she had done. She read it for at least the tenth time, trying to find some message to reassure her that Jane would return soon. She found no such meaning, only more fuel for her anger toward her husband. She blamed him for Jane not marrying from Longbourn. She remained confident, however, that her favorite would come home and comfort her as soon as her honeymoon was over.
Mary sighed and rose from her chair to leave, not wanting to get into another discussion about Jane.
“Will you be alright alone for a while? I must see that everything is in place for Lizzy and Mr. Darcy’s arrival.”
“Yes, yes, go. We must see to Mr. Darcy’s every comfort and be sure Lydia’s things are in order to travel to London.”
Mrs. Bennet had protested when she was told that Mary would be going to London with the Darcys. She believed Lydia should be the one to receive the honor since, in her mind at least, she was the most marriageable. She remained fixed in her decision and ordered Lydia’s trunks to be packed and ready when the Darcys arrived. Mary opened her mouth to argu
e with her once again but could not find the strength to form the words. She would gladly let her new brother fight this particular battle.
********
Elizabeth stood outside the door to her father’s room and eyed it with considerable trepidation. She asked Darcy to wait downstairs with her mother and sisters, fearing his presence would be upsetting to her father. She could hear raised voices below and wondered at her mother’s ability to unsettle both Darcy and Mary, the two most stoic and levelheaded people she had ever known.
“Enough!” she heard her husband’s firm tone followed by muffled voices and then silence. She sighed in relief, thankful for Darcy’s steady reason in the midst of the emotional tempest that her mother brought with her into every room she entered. She shook her head and began to gather her courage to open the door when she heard a deep voice from above her.
“Miss Lizzy, are you well?” Remy was positioned outside Mr. Bennet’s door and had watched her stand there for nearly a quarter of an hour, just staring, not even acknowledging he was there.
“I am. Thank you, Remy.” She smiled softly and gestured toward the stairs. “They are very loud, are they not?”
He nodded. “I believe the revolution was quieter, Miss Lizzy.”
Her smile grew, and she reached up to kiss him on the cheek then looked him straight in the eye.
“Thank you.”
He nodded once and looked at the door then back to her. She raised her chin and drew a breath, motioning to him that she was ready. He opened the door for her, and she entered a room that was as still and quiet as the death that stalked its occupant. Though it was still morning, no light was coming from the windows as the curtains were drawn over the cold, foggy scene outside. Only one candle was lit and rested on the table beside the nurse who rose from her seat when Elizabeth entered.
Everything had looked different when she came to Longbourn just an hour before. The staff was new, and though her younger sisters had grown, everything thing else seemed smaller. The day she left, she had felt incredibly fragile as everything she had ever gathered strength from turned menacing and vile right in front of her eyes. Now, all that had been so frightening to her on that day seemed insignificant, including the man in the bed in front of her.