Darcy's Temptation

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Darcy's Temptation Page 14

by Regina Jeffers


  The conviction with which she said the words made the dream real, and he slowly lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “My Love, I have imagined this moment so many times, but never once did I feel such contentment and exhilaration at the same time.” Transfixed, they stayed that way for many minutes, fighting the urge to smother each other with kisses.“You are beautiful, my Dearest One.” Elizabeth started to drop her eyes, but he lifted her chin with his finger. “If you plan to drop your eyes each time I tell you how much I love you, my Dearest, you will forever be looking at the floor.You need never to look down again.” She rested her hand on his chest; he wondered if she felt the faint trembling and the erratic beating of his heart. He closed his eyes, and her nearness consumed him. “My Love, you have stolen my heart; I cannot live without you. Please say you will be my wife.”

  “I can think of nothing more perfect than our matrimonial felicity. Being forever known as your wife would be my happiest desire.” His breath caught in his throat; Elizabeth was finally his. Now so close he could feel her breath on his cheeks, his arms enveloped her as she offered her mouth for their first kiss.

  “I have been waiting for you,” he whispered into her ear. The passion in his voice made her body tremble, and he instinctively moved in closer to support her. He dreamed of this moment for over a year; the pure pleasure of tasting her lips and holding her at last radiated through his body.

  Elizabeth looked at the clock once again. How many hours would it take for her husband to return to Pemberley? The night without him lasted forever. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable place to sleep; yet, the bed was the same one she shared with Darcy. The difference lay in his absence. How had she come to so depend on him for her existence? She needed Darcy as she needed air. She sat at her embroidery, but her mind drifted to the man she loved. Elizabeth felt him today, and the feeling brought her little comfort. She put her needlework down and walked to the window to look out over the grounds of the estate, the home he loved. Darcy wanted her here with him.

  Hugging herself and trying to still the fear creeping into her heart, Elizabeth whispered his name, “Fitzwilliam,” before closing her eyes, hoping to capture his image. “I miss you, my Husband,” she mumbled to the emptiness of the room. Elizabeth swayed, thinking of his arms around her and the endearments Darcy offered when he held her near. Finally, she turned back to find something to pass the time. Maybe she would write a letter to Jane; sitting at Darcy’s desk would ease her longing. She crossed behind the furniture, striding purposely to the door when suddenly a pain—a sharp, penetrating pain —brought her to an abrupt halt. She clasped the back of her head, swooning from the pressure radiating through her. Images of Darcy flashed before her eyes as flames of a candle flickering in the wind. “Fitzwilliam,” she screamed as the blackness overcame her.

  The smelling salts pulled at Elizabeth’s consciousness. “Mrs. Darcy,” she heard Mrs. Reynolds’s voice. “Can you hear me, Mrs. Darcy?” A cool cloth gently touched her face, teasing Elizabeth’s eyes open, blinking several times to force her senses to respond.

  “Elizabeth?” Georgiana’s face appeared above hers. “Elizabeth, are you all right?”

  Elizabeth fought hard to make clear her immediate thoughts.“Where is Fitzwilliam?”

  “My brother is not here. Do you know what happened, Elizabeth?” Georgiana tried to lift Elizabeth’s head from the floor.

  “Georgiana, we must find Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth pushed herself up as the urgency rushed into her voice.

  Georgiana tried to assure her. “My brother is in Hull, Elizabeth.”

  “No,” she demanded. “He needs me. I heard him call my name. Please believe me; Fitzwilliam needs me.” She clutched at Georgiana’s hands.“We must go to him; we must help him.”

  “You fainted, Mrs. Darcy.” The housekeeper supported Elizabeth to her feet as the mistress stood gingerly. “Mr. Darcy is away, but he will return in a few days.” Mrs. Reynolds helped her to the nearest chair.

  The panic set in; Elizabeth looked at each of them with eyes enlarged by the fright. “Do you not understand? Fitzwilliam needs me. He is in pain. I felt his pain. Please help me, Georgiana,” Elizabeth pleaded.

  “My brother is fine, Elizabeth.” Georgiana took her hand.

  Elizabeth sat down dejectedly. How could she make them understand? All her reason told her Darcy would return in a few days, but something of her fear remained. She looked about, finally forcing a smile to her face although the feeling of dread did not leave the pit of her stomach. “Of course, Fitzwilliam is well,” she said the words, trying to convince herself of their truth.“I do not know what happened.”

  “Shall I send for Mr. Spencer, Madam? Is it the child?”The woman’s loyalty to Pemberley caused her to think of the heir Elizabeth carried.

  “No, I am fine; there is no need for Mr. Spencer. I just overextended myself once again. I assure you I am well.” Elizabeth strained to persuade them of her health while still feeling an emptiness only Darcy’s presence could fill. “Please, I will be fine; I simply need a few moments to recover my balance.”

  “Let me help you to your rooms, Mrs. Darcy,” Mrs. Reynolds suggested.

  Elizabeth stammered,“Maybe I will lie down for awhile.”

  She allowed the Darcys’ trusted housekeeper to help her to her sitting room and bedchamber, and although she put on a happy face, she could not escape the apprehension that clutched at her heart. As she lay across the bed, clasping at the embroidered pillow, Elizabeth allowed her eyes to close. “Stay with me, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered.“Do not leave me; come home to Pemberley. I am here, my Love.” Tears welled in her eyes, and silent sobs soon racked her shoulders.

  For the next few days, Elizabeth forced herself to go through the motions of being Pemberley’s mistress. She and Georgiana visited several of the tenants; she had fittings for new dresses. Now, with her condition, Elizabeth needed additional items, but her heart did not participate in these activities. Her heart wanted Darcy home; then everything else would be important once again.

  Elizabeth stood for hours watching the lane leading to Pemberley, knowing Darcy would return sometime in the next couple of days. She wondered why she had no word from him; Darcy would send an express, but Elizabeth heard nothing. So, her eyes searched the lane, watching for Darcy’s coach to return. “Please, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered to her reflection in the window.“I need you here, my Love.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;

  it is disposition alone.”

  Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility, 1811

  On the sixth day of Darcy’s absence, an express post arrived. Elizabeth assumed it was “from” her husband, but then she realized it was “for” her husband. She took the letter into his study, debating whether she should read it. Finally, she reasoned Darcy planned for her to act in his stead so she broke the seal and set down at his desk to read the missive. Immediately, Elizabeth’s hands began to shake and she gasped, holding one of Darcy’s handkerchiefs to her mouth to stifle the sound.

  21 February

  Mr. Darcy,

  I assume the delay in our meeting resulted in your finding the information you sought elsewhere. I am sorry you were unable to come to Hull; I anticipated seeing the man you became; I possess fond memories of meeting your esteemed father.We all found his insights helpful, especially in our early years.

  What did this mean? Fitzwilliam went not to Hull after all. How was that possible? The dread she experienced the last few days made it hard for her to swallow.

  In case you still need my help in seeking information on Captain James Rutherford, I enclose a separate list of details regarding the man. Some of them are quite interesting, as I am sure you will agree. I look forward to meeting you one day soon.

  Hannah More

  Elizabeth flipped quickly to the second page to peruse the information contained within. She still fel
t confused.What did all this mean? Her husband never met with Hannah More as he planned, and she heard nothing from him. Her mind raced with what to do next. Without thinking, she rang for one of the maids.

  “Yes, Madam,” the woman appeared instantaneously.

  “Have Mr. Howard attend me at once,” Elizabeth demanded.

  “Yes, Madam.”

  She returned to her reading.

  Captain James Rutherford

  second son of Earl of Leeds

  attended Oxford for one year

  school suspended his education for undisclosed reasons

  served two years in navy

  recently dismissed from his position

  ruthless treatment of his subordinates

  made moderate fortune while in the service

  took inordinate chances to achieve a bounty

  many men lost lives under his command

  reportedly highly in debt

  known to be intimate with questionable associates

  Mr. Darcy, I hope these facts serve your purposes. - H. M.

  Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the paper again; she could barely breathe. Darcy had not arrived in Hull—that was apparent from Hannah More’s letter. Plus, Miss More’s correspondence indicated some serious facts about Captain Rutherford, all of which she needed to discuss with her husband.

  Mr. Howard’s appearance at the door interrupted Elizabeth’s thoughts. “Mr. Howard, I need for you to go to Hull as soon as possible. Mr. Darcy did not arrive as expected; I fear something bad happened. I will write out a note to Miss More while you make arrangements.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Darcy,” Mr. Howard’s concern came at once. “I will take some men with me; we will leave within the hour.”

  Georgiana appeared at the door of the study. “Elizabeth, I was told there was an express. . . . ” Georgiana’s words froze in the air, seeing Elizabeth’s distraught look. She rushed to her sister’s side. Kneeling in front of her, Georgiana begged, “Elizabeth, what happened?”

  Elizabeth handed Georgiana the letter, unable to answer out loud. Georgiana snatched the letter and read it quickly. “My Goodness!” Georgiana exclaimed.“What do we do?”

  “Mr. Howard took several men; he left for Hull moments ago,” Elizabeth answered as if not comprehending.“I gave him explicit directions to send word immediately.” They sat in complete silence for a few minutes, each engrossed in what they thought. “Georgiana, where could Fitzwilliam be?” she whispered the words.

  Georgiana knew Elizabeth needed a reasonable answer, but, try as she may, she could offer her sister no solace.“My brother must be all right.” Georgiana said the words as much to convince herself as Elizabeth.“He had trouble with the coach, or Fitzwilliam took his business elsewhere. Anything could happen.” Georgiana’s words poured out. “But nothing is wrong.” Tears misted her eyes.

  Elizabeth reached out and pulled Georgiana to her. “Oh, Georgiana, what will we do?”The fear of losing Darcy encompassed her; sobs of anguish smothered her.

  Georgiana allowed her own tears to flow. “Fitzwilliam is all right,” she repeated. “My brother is all right; he will be home soon.”

  Over the next three days, Elizabeth and Georgiana rarely left the house.They stood for hours watching the lane heading to Pemberley, hoping Darcy’s coach would appear.

  “Fitzwilliam has been gone ten days,” Elizabeth said out loud, although she spoke to no one in particular.

  “He will return soon,” Georgiana responded.

  They had multiple conversations of a similar nature since receiving the letter from Miss More. One moment they felt absolute despair at the possibility Darcy may never come home; the next moment they knew he must be safe.

  The solitary figure of Clayton Ashford traveled the lane to Pemberley on a regular basis to visit with Kitty Bennet, but today he struggled with what he must do. “Mr. Ashford,” the maid announced.

  “Show him in,” Elizabeth answered from behind Darcy’s desk. With her husband away, it was the only place she felt his presence. She could not dare to think of his absence from her bed so she focused on the study from where he did all his work.

  “Mrs. Darcy.” Ashford made his bow upon entering the room.

  “Good morning, Sir. I am afraid my sister has not come down to breakfast.You are a bit early today.” Elizabeth offered the vicar half a smile.

  “I did not come to speak to Miss Bennet,” he said solemnly. “I came to speak to you, Mrs. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth froze, afraid of what he might mean. “Mr. Ashford, your tone tells me this is not a social call.”

  “Mrs. Darcy, please come and sit with me.” He ushered Elizabeth to a nearby chair.

  Elizabeth stammered, “You frighten me, Sir, with your seriousness.”

  “There is no way to say this without bringing you hurt.” He heard Elizabeth gasp. “An urgent express came this morning from Mr. Howard. He asked me to bring you his news for he feared you might require my comfort upon hearing it.”

  “It is Fitzwilliam, is it not?” Elizabeth’s eyes searched Ashford’s face for the truth.

  Ashford took her hands in his. “Mr. Howard writes he found Mr. Darcy’s carriage north of Hemswell. A robbery obviously occurred. The road is one not often traveled, but, evidently, looters stripped the coach of anything of value, including Mr. Darcy’s personal belongings.The coachman and postilion were both dead. There was no sign of Mr. Darcy, however. Mr. Howard and the men organized a search of the surrounding villages and woods. He plans to question those he finds about what they may know. Mr. Howard made arrangements to ship the bodies home for a proper burial.”

  “Fitzwilliam is not dead,” Elizabeth said softly.

  “Mr. Howard writes he hopes to know more over the next few days.” Mr.Ashford expected Mrs. Darcy to break into tears, but instead she stared off as if seeing images.

  “My husband is not dead.” She reached out to lightly caress the cleric’s cheek.“Fitzwilliam is alive.”

  “Mrs. Darcy, we sincerely hope you are right, but Mr. Howard’s letter does not offer much hope. You must be prepared to face the possibility of Mr. Darcy’s untimely demise.” Ashford knew people often denied their hurt in such situations.“Would you like me to pray with you, Mrs. Darcy?”

  “Mr. Ashford, I do not wish to seem unrepentant, but my prayers are already answered. I knew as much for several days if I just listened to my heart. I felt Fitzwilliam’s pain, but of late I felt his peacefulness. He may be hurt, but my husband is not dead. He speaks to me in my dreams.”

  Ashford pleaded, “Mrs. Darcy, please let me help you.”

  “I will not hear of it, Mr. Ashford.” Elizabeth leveled her best Darcy stare on the man. “If my husband were dead, there would be a body. If Fitzwilliam lives, I am content to wait for his return.”

  “If it is acceptable, I remain at Pemberley in case you, Miss Darcy, or Miss Bennet may need my services?” Ashford looked a bit confused by her insistence.

  “You are always welcome, Mr. Ashford.” Elizabeth actually smiled.“Thank you for coming to us today.” She stood, the enigmatic smile flitting across her face.“You are most welcomed.”

  “Miss Bennet,” Ashford spoke softly to Kitty, “your sister seeks comfort where none may exist.”

  “Elizabeth is the strongest and the most realistic of us,” Kitty assured him. “If she believes Mr. Darcy is alive, I do not doubt her. I never saw two people so in love—so connected—if my sister says Mr. Darcy speaks to her in her dreams, I would believe her if I were you, Sir.”

  “Do you truly believe such a love can exist?”

  “Many would tell you such a love could only exist in the pages of a novel, but there is not a woman alive who does not believe in the possibility of finding her great love. My sister is fortunate to be loved by Mr. Darcy.”

  “What of you, Miss Bennet?” Ashford suddenly felt inadequate. “Do you wish for such a love, too?”

  “I want a husband who treats me with
respect and listens to my simple ramblings without tiring of me. Mr. Darcy once told me when he kissed Elizabeth for the first time, it was like coming home. Any woman would wish to affect her husband as such.”

  During this, Kitty did not realize Ashford moved closer to her. When she turned her head, Ashford’s mouth was only inches from hers.“Miss Bennet,” he stammered,“please forgive me.” He caressed her jaw line.

  Kitty whispered,“For what should I offer forgiveness?”

  “For this.” Ashford lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss lasted only a few elongated seconds, but the tantalizing tingle both felt when he withdrew stayed with them. Their eyes locked, and their breathing came in short bursts. “Katherine,” he whispered as his thumb stroked her cheek.“I want to be the man you love.”

  Kitty thought of the difference in the kiss she described to Mr. Darcy earlier and the one she just experienced. “Clayton,” she offered him a teasing smile,“I never knew you were so romantic.”

  “You bring out the best in me.” Ashford gifted her with a smile of his own.

  Kitty held back a sigh; Clayton Ashford confused her.Was he shy? Evidently, that was not an accurate estimation. His piety could be questioned at times also.The man, obviously, cared for her, but Kitty could not be sure of her own feelings although she would not let him know. Mr. Ashford could be her last chance. He was a good man, a gentle man—a gentleman—and she would learn to love.At least, he was amiable.

  She said at last,“You seem very pleased, Sir.”

 

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