“You do please me, Miss Bennet.”
Kitty worried she might be seen by Ashford as being too forward. She did not want Lydia’s reputation to follow her so she said,“We should really stop this, Sir.”
Her caution bothered him; Ashford nodded his agreement and looked away in disgust. “I apologize for overstepping the bounds of propriety, Miss Bennet. Hopefully, you will see it in your heart to forgive me.” Humiliated by his actions, he turned his back on Kitty and stepped away from her.
Suddenly, Kitty realized Ashford felt ashamed of what had happened. His shoulders hunched forward, withdrawing inward with his censure. Not wishing to lose this thoroughly delightful moment, she came up behind him, touching his shoulder. He turned to look at her hand on his arm, not sure what it meant. Kitty looked up into his eyes. “Did I do something to offend you, Mr.Ashford?”
“It is I who offered offense.” He looked saddened by what he had done.
“You offered me no offense. It seems I might be a bit susceptible to you,” she teased, but blushed from her own forwardness.
Ashford tried to reason with himself before he spoke again. Having her touch his arm sent shards of longing through him. He knew as the spiritual leader of the community he should not be acting as such, but Kitty Bennet’s presence was of all he thought. “When I heard the news of Mr. Darcy,” he choked out the words,“I realized I could lose you, Miss Bennet, before I ever knew the pleasure of kissing you. It was a thoroughly selfish idea, which I tried desperately to resist, but even I could not ignore your words of desiring a great love.” Ashford’s eyes searched Kitty’s face for her reaction to his words. “Please tell me you could learn to love me.”
“I do not have to learn to love you, Mr. Ashford. I already do.” Kitty said the words as if she meant them, trying to convince herself as much as him. The words brought the desired response from Ashford, as they visibly shot through him, he crushed her to him, holding her head to his chest and whispering words of endearment.
“Katherine, my beautiful vivacious Katherine,” he whispered into her hair. “You gave me the greatest gift a man could receive.”
Kitty sighed, thinking this man’s depth of feeling scared her and exhilarated her at the same time. One moment he took on a serious mien, and the next he violated propriety, and as the community’s religious leader, his violating propriety seemed almost amusing. Obviously, he wanted only her assurance she could love him.That, Kitty could easily do. The man loves you, she told herself. He needs you; you will learn to need him, too.
Sounds of others in the hallway forced them apart, and Ashford moved away to the window to conceal the emotional ride he just took.
“Mr. Ashford,” Kitty hissed. He looked back over his shoulder at her. Kitty knew what she would say to convince him—what he wanted to hear.“You are home, Sir,” she smiled at him before taking a seat and working on her embroidery.
Ashford looked at her in amazement and offered a soft laugh. “You are incredible, Miss Bennet,” he mumbled in hushed tones,“absolutely incredible.”
Darcy woke from the dream with a start; he still felt the woman’s breath on his cheek. “I have been waiting for you,” he whispered.
He wondered, “Waiting for whom?” The dream seemed so real; he could feel the erratic beating of his heart and the nearness of the woman. “Elizabeth,” his mind said to him, and the image disappeared. He wished he could see the woman’s face in the dream. Darcy knew her name, but he wanted to see her face, then the question of who he was could be answered. If he could remember the woman in the dream, he could make sense of his life once again.
This was Darcy’s world: He slept often, always dreaming of the same woman—always hearing her words of endearment—always feeling her touch him.When he did not sleep, he fussed with the servant, frustrated that the man would not help him escape the room in which he found himself. He saw no one besides the servant, and Darcy came to realize until he could leave the room on his own, the mystery of whom he was and where he was would remain. So, he set about forcing himself to get stronger. Determined, for the next three days, he ate the food brought to him; he tried walking a few steps each day, compelling his body to respond to his will.
On the fourth day, Darcy, with Conrad’s help, made his way to an upstairs sitting room, and then he awaited the appearance of Miss Donnelly. When she entered, the woman made him a quick curtsy.“I am happy to see you up on your own, Sir.” She smiled at him, and Darcy had a flittering image of having seen her before.“You worried us, Sir.”
“Hopefully, you will forgive me for not rising.” Darcy looked at the woman more closely.
“Of course, Sir.” Miss Donnelly took a seat across from him.
He stared at her, trying to see something familiar in the woman. “Thank you for opening your home to me. It was most generous of you.”
“I am confused,” the lady said.“Why would I not open my home? Soon it will be our home.”
Darcy now saw the woman smile at him in an enticing way. “How may this house be our home?”
“Oh, your condition is worse than Mr. Addison led me to believe.” Miss Donnelly feigned shock.
Darcy demanded,“Then are you telling me you know who I am?”
“Of course I do!” She brought her fan to her face and began to strum the air.“This is so stressful.”
“Madam,” he tried to control the volume of his speech. “I have lain in that bed for nearly ten days not knowing anything about my life. I beg you, if you can speak on this matter, do so.”
“Very well.” Miss Donnelly dropped her eyes.“I hoped you would recall these details on your own, but I see it is not to be. My Goodness, where should I begin?”
“My name would be an excellent beginning.”
“You are my cousin Frederick Donnelly, and we are engaged to be married.” Miss Donnelly looked him directly in the eye while indicating the ruby ring on her gloved hand.
“We are engaged?” Darcy asked, trying to comprehend the situation in which he now found himself.
“Yes, Sir, we are. That is why I could not come to your room during your illness; it would not be proper.” A slight blush overtook her face.
Darcy stammered,“May I ask your given name?”
“Elizabeth Mavis Donnelly.”
“Elizabeth,” he murmured, but the feeling he experienced the last few days when he dreamed of the passionate woman did not surface; only confusion reigned.
Darcy wanted answers.“How did I come to be on the road?”
Elizabeth Donnelly continued to spin her story. Over the past week, she concocted what she thought to be a believable one. When Miss Donnelly met Fitzwilliam Darcy in London all those many months ago, he was single. If she “rushed” him into the marriage, even if he recovered his memory, he would likely not abandon her. And, if he did, she would not object. She would have her inheritance, and, besides, she hated men—hated the filth they brought into her house.Their hands covered in dirt. She would want no man to ever touch her unless he wore gloves.The thoughts sent a shiver through her.
Darcy saw her shiver, thinking the woman seemed reluctant to answer him.“Is there a problem, Madam?”
“No, Sir,” she tried to cover her thoughts. “I just remembered the conditions in which we found you—they were so deplorable!”
Darcy did not answer; he simply nodded an understanding of the woman’s sentiments, yet something about her bothered him.
“You decided to travel to Hull on business and while there secure a proper license for our ceremony.Then when you did not return in a timely manner, I worried for your safety as not returning would be uncharacteristic of such an honorable man—so I set out to follow you.We came across your carriage along the road. My household staff was dead, and you were injured. I had Mr. Lansing gather what we could, and we brought you here immediately. Needless to say, your health was my first concern. I am sure the coach has been looted by now.”
The woman’s recitation seem
ed a bit too rehearsed, but Darcy could not decipher what he should address next.Things did not seem right; yet, he could not imagine why she would purposely lie to him. “How long has our marriage been planned?” he asked suspiciously.
“Not long, in reality,” she responded sweetly. “We are cousins, as I explained previously, although not close relatives. My parents died nearly three years ago; your older brother claimed your family’s fortune, and a previous indiscretion,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust, “caused your father to disinherit you. As you have the title, and I have the estate, I am sorry to say ours is a marriage to benefit both of our situations; however, I hope we can find a mutual affection for each other.” The woman tried to entice him with her manners and her words.
“If we marry,” Darcy stressed the words,“I would hope for a civil relationship.” He did not offer the woman words of encouragement.
Trying to ply her womanly charms, she smiled at him. “I know this is difficult, but I hope we can continue our agreement once you regain your strength. Although ours is not a bond of love, it could be so in time. Prior to your attack, we came to an understanding of our relationship.”
Darcy sipped his tea, barely removing the cup from his lips. “You are most generous, Madam.” His words and manners took on a haughty tone. “If you have no objections, I believe I exhausted myself already. I beg your leave to retire to my chambers.”
“Of course, Frederick,” Miss Donnelly concluded. “I hope to see you again later then.”With that, the woman rose, made a proper curtsy, and promptly left the room.
Darcy looked after her. Something did not seem right, but he could not determine the source of his concern. Perhaps his recent memory loss left holes he simply needed to fill. Perhaps the woman tried to deceive him. Either way, at the moment, he could do little but wait and see how things developed.
“Elizabeth Donnelly,” he rolled the words over in his mouth, but they did not seem to fit.
Conrad helped him back to his room; the effort consumed Darcy’s thoughts until he once more entered his chamber. He hobbled to the dressing area. “Are these my items, Conrad?” He tried to sound nonchalant.
“Yes, Sir, Mr. Lansing brought them in when you arrived.” Conrad busied himself in turning down the freshly made bed.
Darcy picked up the handkerchief embroidered with the initials “F.D.” Could it be he was really Frederick Donnelly? The name felt foreign. He clasped the handkerchief in his hand and made his way to his bed. “Conrad, when did you first know of my being a part of this household?” Darcy used the older man’s shoulder for support as he lowered himself back on to the bed.
“When Mr. Lansing brought you here.” Conrad strained under Darcy’s weight.
The news did not totally shock him, but Darcy tried to hide his reaction. “I was not here prior to that time?” he said as casually as he could.
“I cannot say for sure, Sir; I was away taking care of me sister, she be ill, Sir—gone for over a month.” Conrad pulled the bedclothes up as Darcy shifted his weight to get more comfortable.
“So, I could have been here prior to the robbery?”
“Yes, Sir, you could have. Would you like for me to ask some of the other staff?” Conrad seemed concerned.
“If you could do so discreetly,” Darcy said, again trying to play down his urgency,“I would be most appreciative.”
“I will do me best, Sir.” Conrad retreated to the other side of the room.“Try and rest now, Sir.”
“Thank you, Conrad,” Darcy acknowledged the man’s efforts; then he turned over in the bed and welcomed his dreams.
“Wait,” he called to her. She walked ahead of him in the garden.
“Can you not keep up, Sir?” She turned around and walked backwards, smiling broadly at the man she loved.
Darcy increased his pace to overtake her.The sound of her laughter brought him such joy; he could not wait to take her in his arms. Just as he came near, Elizabeth stumbled, literally falling into his waiting arms.
“I believe I have you at a disadvantage.” Darcy’s desire dripped from his mouth as he pulled her closer.“You belong to me, Elizabeth.” He bent to gently kiss her lips.
“What do you intend to do with me, Sir?” Elizabeth’s words lightly brushed Darcy’s cheek.
“Love you—love you forever,” he whispered the words into her ear.
“I love you, my Dearest One.”The woman’s hands found a home in his thick, dark hair. Delightful sensations coursed through him as Darcy’s lips returned to claim her mouth.
He gasped,“You are magnificent.”
The woman in his dreams, obviously, held a connection to his previous life, but Darcy could not justify his feelings for the passionate, vivacious lady of his imagination and the reserved, calculating woman who served as his current benefactor. Could these be my fantasies—my hope for a more loving relationship? Could I possess some repressed feelings for Miss Donnelly, which are playing out in my whimsy?
Darcy asked Conrad to fetch him paper and ink. He decided he would record his thoughts and questions.A journal would not be his answer; he simply needed a way to organize his musings. For example, why did he not ask Miss Donnelly if someone informed his father and brother of his injuries? Should he not write to them if for no other reason than to allay their fears of his demise? Even an indiscretion would be forgiven in the face of danger. Where was his father’s estate? What was the nature of his reported indiscretion? Did he have marketable skills such as law or trade or the military? Where did he attend school? The number of questions grew by leaps and bounds. Darcy would record his questions and then seek the answers.
“Mr. Donnelly,” Conrad spoke the name as he carried in the evening meal, “I hope you are ready for something to eat. Would you like to move to the table, Sir, or would you prefer the tray brought to the bed?”
“The table—thank you, Conrad.” Darcy laboriously pushed himself up in the bed.“I need to move, if you would be so kind as to offer me your shoulder once again.”
“Happily, Sir.”
Moving steadily toward the straight-backed chair, Darcy forced his body to react. “In case I have not said so,” he said, gritting his teeth with the effort of moving, “your continual concern for my recovery is most appreciated, Conrad.”
“You are most kind, Sir,” the servant offered. “I have something I found for you, Sir.” He helped Darcy lower himself into the chair and situate himself in front of the dinner tray.
Darcy breathed heavily with the movement. “What would that be?”
“Old Mr. Donnelly had this, Sir.” Conrad brought out a walking stick. “I asked Mr. Lansing if we might use it for you; Miss Donnelly consented; I thought it might help steady you, Sir.”
“Conrad,” Darcy began, “how may I ever repay you?” He took the stick, fingering the fine carving of its handle. “It is a magnificent accessory.”
“I am sure there are many other items from the old master, which will be of use to you when you marry Miss Donnelly.”
Darcy looked closely at the man. “So, I am intended for Miss Donnelly?”
“That is what Mr. Lansing confirms, Sir.” The man set out the food items for Darcy.
Darcy asked suspiciously,“What do the other servants say?”
“That is just it, Sir,” Conrad lowered his voice. “The others say the same thing—nearly word for word. No matter who I ask, the story is the same, and the wording is the same. No one changes even the wording of the story. Do you not think that odd, Sir?”
“Quite odd.” Darcy guarded his reaction.“What was said?” He sipped the soup.
“Everyone said you were here three weeks.You and Miss Donnelly are to marry. You went to Hull on business and were attacked when returning to the estate. Those were the words, Sir.”
“They are the same as what Miss Donnelly provided me,” Darcy mused.
Conrad tried to busy himself about the room before he responded.“I cannot tell you, Sir, how this both
ers me.”
Darcy put down the soupspoon and turned to the older man. “May I ask why you addressed me as Mr. Donnelly today?”
“I have been instructed by Mr. Lansing to do so.”
“Mr. Lansing is Miss Donnelly’s steward?” The statement came out as a question.
“Yes, Sir. He has been the estate’s steward for three years—since old Mr. Donnelly’s passing.” Conrad stoked the fire as he spoke.
“Conrad, what can you tell me about Miss Donnelly?”
“I have been with the estate for over twenty years. Miss Donnelly was six years old when I came here.The old master and his mistress were likeable people, they treated us very well. Miss Donnelly is more severe than were her parents. She is very explicit about the estate being clean.The current mistress becomes upset if items are not cleaned several times a day. She allows Mr. Lansing free reign in running the place. It fell on hard times of late, and the mistress was forced to sell off several of the estate’s items to meet expenses. Of course, Sir, you heard none of this from me.”
“I will keep your confidence,” Darcy stammered.“You gave me much upon which to reflect.” Darcy finished the meal, and, with Conrad’s help and the use of the walking stick, he made several trips up and down the hallway between his chambers and the top of the staircase.
Now, each trip Darcy made down the hallway outside of his room, he became more aware of his surroundings—the estate’s furnishings and its overall condition.“It seems to me,” he began one afternoon as he sat with Miss Donnelly in the same upstairs sitting room, “the estate is in need of some very badly needed repairs.”
“Really, Frederick, whatever can you mean?” Miss Donnelly continued her act of submissiveness.
“There are places up and down this hallway where flooring, doorframes, and window frames should be replaced.The wood has rotted. Why has your steward not addressed these issues?” Darcy’s voice demanded an answer.
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