Darcy's Temptation

by Regina Jeffers

“Of course I know.”

  “Then you will wait for me?” Harrison knew he overstepped the bounds of propriety, but with the changes in the assemblage at Pemberley, he did not expect to be invited often to the house, if at all. His chances of seeing Georgiana Darcy decreased with the return of her brother.

  Georgiana looked away.“My brother plans to present me to Society this year.”

  “How? With Mrs. Darcy’s lying in?”

  “I made the same argument.” The tears welled in Georgiana’s eyes.“He says it is our duty—my duty to my family.”

  Harrison could see the distress play across her face. “Georgiana,” his voice came out huskily, “I will do what you want me to do.You know my desire—my regard lies with you. Send word, and I will come for you at any time. I know I should not say these words to you, but I love you.”

  Georgiana blushed, but she did not look away. “I will not allow my brother to arrange a marriage for me. I will choose to whom I give my regard. I will wait for you, Chadwick.” The resolve in her voice gave him some comfort. “I must return to the house; they will miss me soon.” Looking about anxiously, she stood to take her leave.

  Harrison walked to where his horse grazed nearby. “I will circle around the house and come out on the carriageway. I should be making my farewells by the time you arrive home.” He prepared to mount, but Georgiana stood too close for him to want to leave her.“Miss Darcy, thank you for giving me the gift of music.” He caressed her jaw line, and then he swung himself up into the saddle.

  “I will wait,” she said again with more determination, “for you, Mr. Harrison, I will wait.”

  Mr. Harrison’s departure meant little to Fitzwilliam Darcy. He had no history with the man that he could recall, but Darcy did scrutinize the man’s manners and especially the way he reacted to Georgiana. However, Darcy felt both Mr. Harrison and his sister showed no affection for one another, and the way this stay ended satisfied him.

  Harrison could not have reached the end of Pemberley’s lane when a servant announced the presence of Lady Marion Haverty. Darcy agreed to meet Lady Haverty in the drawing room.“Lady Haverty,” Darcy made her a proper bow when he entered the room, “how nice to see you. What brings you to Pemberley?”

  “Mr. Darcy, I came when I heard of your return.” She took the chair to which he gestured. “The news of your safe return to your home spread quickly through the surrounding villages. As one of your mother’s closest friends, I felt it my duty to come and seek assurances of your health.”

  “Of course, Lady Haverty.” Darcy nodded his head. “Allow me to order some refreshments.” He rang for a servant, asking for tea and something to eat to be brought immediately. “Ask my wife to join us,” he added.

  As soon as the words escaped his mouth, Darcy noted Lady Haverty’s frown. “Have you met Mrs. Darcy?” he asked out of curiosity.

  “I have not.” Lady Haverty’s disdain showed.

  “I noted what appeared to be your disapproval.” His statement held the inflection of a question.

  Lady Haverty shifted her weight uncomfortably. Finally, she spoke, but the lady guarded her words. “Mr. Darcy, you are aware of my relationship with your mother and Lady Catherine. We were very close as children; your mother and I shared our First Season in Society. I was instrumental in introducing Lady Anne and your father. They were such a happy couple, but they chose from those of their own rank. I heard from several people you appear to be happy with your choice, but I cannot imagine either your mother or your father would approve of your bringing a person of such low connections to your ancestral home as the Mistress of Pemberley. Can you really say your wife deserves such a lofty station?”

  “Mrs. Darcy has her sincere advocates, including my sister.”

  “Miss Darcy is an impressionable young lady, and you must admit she has little point of reference.Your mother’s acquaintances all admire Mrs. Darcy for bettering her lot with such a sagacious match, but she cannot achieve such lofty aspirations. Mrs. Darcy will need to prove herself to your parents’ colleagues; just because she is your wife does not guarantee her a place in our society, Mr. Darcy.”

  Lady Haverty’s words ate away at Darcy’s instinct. Part of what she said rang true. Elizabeth’s connections could not match any of his acquaintances, and Darcy treasured the approval of those with whom he always associated. His pride would not accept their disapproval, and he wondered momentarily if there might be some way to extricate himself from the situation. Then, a stab of arrogance struck him; the fact anyone would disapprove of the woman he chose irritated Darcy beyond compare.

  “I am grieved you feel as you do, Lady Haverty.” Darcy handed her a cup of tea. “Yet, I disagree; my parents placed my happiness and that of my sister above social commitments and relationships.”

  As he said the words, Elizabeth stepped through the open door.“You sent for me, Sir?” Elizabeth made a quick curtsy.

  “Yes, Mrs. Darcy, I have someone I would like you to meet.” His breeding allowed him to stand and lead Elizabeth to a seat next to him. Darcy planned to use this opportunity to observe Elizabeth under the close scrutiny of Lady Haverty. “This is Lady Haverty; her Ladyship was one of my mother’s closest confidantes.”

  Elizabeth made a proper curtsy and accepted the seat Darcy offered. He had no idea Elizabeth heard much of his and Lady Haverty’s conversation.The old Darcy would recognize Elizabeth’s well-concealed amusement. Throughout the discourse, Elizabeth maintained a most properly attentive pose to Lady Haverty’s protracted cordial interest.The nervous prattle of her Ladyship entertained Darcy, and his wife’s astute comments and graciousness illuminated his opinion of Elizabeth. She wore a warm smile and dropped her eyes appropriately, and no one could criticize how Elizabeth’s look conveyed an earnest pleasure in meeting someone from Darcy’s past. By the time the encounter finished, Lady Haverty’s resolve weakened, and she presented a promise they would meet again.

  Before her Ladyship could take her leave, Elizabeth subdolously excused her own withdrawal. “I beg your leave, Lady Haverty. My sister Georgiana and I plan to call upon some of Pemberley’s tenants this afternoon, and I must see to the charitable supplies we will take with us. Please spend some more time with my husband before you leave Pemberley. I find he is excellent company with his close intimates.” Momentarily, Darcy wondered about her words. Could Elizabeth mean he treated others, including her, without civility? Elizabeth gave Darcy a warm smile, but he could not tell her true thoughts.

  Once in the hallway, Elizabeth, literally, rubbed her cheeks. The smile she wore for Lady Haverty hurt Elizabeth’s facial muscles, and Darcy’s doubting of her worth hurt Elizabeth’s self-esteem. She understood her husband had no direct memories of their relationship, but Elizabeth could not fathom how Darcy might be reevaluating whether he thought her worthy to be his wife. Darcy did not speak out against her; yet, he listened to Lady Haverty’s expurgents and accepted them as possibilities. His betrayal brought tears to her eyes. Using the knuckles of her hands, Elizabeth flicked the tears away from her cheeks, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and headed off to find Georgiana. If her husband wanted an exemplary Mistress of Pemberley, then Elizabeth would deliver.

  Darcy sat on Cerberus atop one of the hills overlooking Pemberley House. He rode out with Mr. Howard to survey some of the property. Below he could see the carriage carrying his wife and sister on their rounds to the tenants.The carriage, loaded with various supplies, snaked its way toward the houses beyond the far-reaching hedgerow.

  “How often does my family visit the tenants?” Darcy asked out of amused curiosity.

  “Mrs. Darcy and your sister visit at least twice weekly—generally, three times a week. Miss Darcy has a generous nature, Sir; she seems to see this as a part of her duty to the estate.”

  “Do you not see Mrs. Darcy as having as generous a nature as my sister?” Darcy’s voice held a bit of irritation. He might not approve of much of Elizabeth’s consanguinity,
but she was still his wife, and he would not allow his steward to criticize her.

  “I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Howard cowered under Darcy’s stare. “I chose my words poorly.” He glanced nervously at the master. “Mrs. Darcy’s value to the estate cannot be explained by how she fills the stomachs of the tenants, but how she fills their spirits—their hearts—their belief in your dream for this land.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Howard; you spoke in a similar vein earlier.”

  “I really know not how to explain it, Mr. Darcy.When you chose to include Mrs. Darcy in the running of the estate, I admit to questioning your reason. Yet, Mrs. Darcy is exactly what this estate needs. The people believe in her; they adore her.The tenants might even riot against someone who opposes Mrs. Darcy.” The man half laughed, trying to gauge his employer’s true interest.

  Darcy shifted impatiently in the saddle. It seemed his wife, despite her lack of “breeding,” or possibly because of it, created a bridge of understanding among his residentiaries. He did not know what to make of the many reports he received regarding Elizabeth. Unsettled, he turned his mount toward the open fields. He rode hard, allowing the horse’s heat to create a warmth—a feeling of release from the chaos of late. Darcy pulled up the reins, slowing Cerberus to a meandering trot. Mr. Howard caught him at last, and the men rode side by side. “Let us check Jefferson’s place.” Darcy motioned to the small cottage close to the stream.

  As they dismounted, Mrs. Jefferson hustled out to greet them, a child of less than two on her hip. “Mr. Darcy, Sir,” she spoke quickly,“we be thankin’ the Lord to see ye safe.Ye honor us with yur presence at our home, Sir.”

  “Mrs. Jefferson,” Darcy’s voice held some caution, “would your husband be about?”

  “He be in the fields, Sir.”The woman wiped the child’s dirty face with her apron. “Be there somethin’ wrong, Mr. Darcy? Me man he be sorry for stirrin’ up troubles for Mrs. Darcy, Sir.” She rushed through the apology.“He be frightened by anythin’ new—that be all it be, Sir. It be no respect for you, Sir.”

  Mr. Howard stepped forward. “Mr. Darcy came not to exact justice with your husband; we simply wish to check on Mr. Jefferson’s progress.” Darcy allowed his steward to address the woman’s concerns for he knew not of what she spoke.

  She looked relieved. “Mr. Jefferson be plowin’ today, Sir.”

  Darcy nodded toward their horses, indicating he wished to leave. Mr. Howard instructed Mrs. Jefferson to tell her husband they would call again soon, and then he joined Darcy in the saddle. As they rode back toward the main house, Darcy asked, “Would you care to explain that conversation to me, Mr. Howard?”

  His steward looked around nervously. “Mr. Jefferson spoke out against your plan for the four-crop rotation. I could not calm the fears; the men needed to hear from the voice of Pemberley. Mrs. Darcy brokered no discontent. She told Jefferson if he did not believe in the future of Pemberley—in your heir, Sir—and in your dream, he could leave, but he could never return. Mrs. Darcy would never welcome him here again, and his land would be divided among his neighbors.”

  Darcy laughed. “Mrs. Darcy possesses a strength of character—a perfection—so to speak.” His estimation of the woman he married continued in transition. Darcy knew Elizabeth could never measure up to his family’s standards, and, no matter what she did, he could never warrant his choice.Yet, by all accounts, his wife demonstrated superb qualities when it came to how she served as Pemberley’s mistress.There was the slight possibility he could tolerate a life with her after all.

  For five days, his cousin observed Darcy’s interactions with Elizabeth, but Darcy treated her with all civility. Comparing the current treatment with his previous responses to his wife, one could easily observe the change in their relationship. Darcy had, for example, yet to call her by her familiar name; he always referred to Elizabeth as “Mrs. Darcy” or “Madam.” Darcy reasoned calling her “Elizabeth” indicated a more intimate coupling than they possessed; he reserved her given name for when he developed a true allegiance to this woman.

  Although Edward and Anne had noted Darcy withheld calling Elizabeth by her name, Elizabeth ached each time he addressed her, longing for the tenderness and the passion in his voice when he called her such. To hear him call her “Lizzy” would be select pleasure. Often she bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming out at the injustice of losing her husband’s love just as they began their life together.

  Darcy’s cousins should have noted how easy Elizabeth made it for Darcy. Generally, she took two of her meals alone within her room, only appearing at the evening meal. During the day, Elizabeth tended to correspondence, her sewing, reading, and practicing her music. She had not continued helping with the running of Pemberley; her duties as the estate’s mistress did not include making decisions affecting the financial soundness of the holdings. She limited her time to the running of the house and to her charity work. At first, Darcy wondered why she withdrew from the liberties he bequeathed to her, but with each day he celebrated her relinquishing what was rightfully his as the estate’s master. Elizabeth did not force him to interact with her any more than necessary, and she did not demand what he once freely gave to her.

  Darcy seemed content to live the quietness of his life; he would prove he could be the man his father was; he could do it all—alone and independent.

  Assured of Darcy’s success, Edward and Anne retreated to Rosings Park, leaving Darcy to fend for himself in this fledgling relationship.At their departure, Elizabeth stood beside him as his wife and made the necessary farewells. Darcy appreciated her efforts, but his feelings had not changed, and his memory had not returned.

  To say Darcy held no memory of Elizabeth Bennet Darcy would be a mistruth. Although he could not think of her as a vital part of his life during his waking hours, each night she invaded his dreams. He saw her smile—her fine eyes—her petite body. She beckoned him to come to her, and Darcy took his delight in her embrace. Often, he awoke with a start, shaken by his thoughts about this woman. He often crawled out of the bed and sat before the dying embers of the fire feeling both the heat of his growing desire for her and his repugnance at having such thoughts. A gentleman would not think such lubricious thoughts about any woman, especially the woman he chose to be his wife. Did he have such base thoughts of this woman because she was below him? Did his dreams put Elizabeth in her proper place? However, no matter what his reason told him, Elizabeth was more than a memory; she waited for him in his dreams, and no matter what he did to prevent falling asleep, eventually his dreams won out, and Darcy lost himself in the desire found in her eyes and the passion of her touch.

  Darcy stood at the window; he watched Elizabeth leave the garden and head away from the house. Her dog romped beside her, making excursions to the water’s edge to chase the waterfowl and yapping at the small animals and rodents found in the underbrush. She carried a basket, and he watched as she lightly swung it as she walked. For a change, Elizabeth did not look down nor withdrawn; she walked with a purpose.

  Surprised by her demeanor, he impulsively decided to follow her. It took him nearly a quarter hour to find her, having taken a wrong turn on the other side of the lake.When he did finally espy her, Elizabeth sat on the bank of the stream, which fed the lake. She casually tossed a stick to the dog to retrieve, tugging it from the animal’s mouth and throwing it out further. A mirthful giggle escaped her, and Darcy found himself smiling at the image she presented.

  Not realizing he was there, Elizabeth removed her bonnet and loosened the simple knot in which she wore her hair, allowing her auburn waves to cascade over her shoulders and down her back. Darcy found her innocent choice enticing. Elizabeth leaned back on her elbows, closed her eyes, and let the early spring breeze blow her hair about.

  At first, Darcy held back, not wishing to disturb her, but finally he said,“May I join you?”

  His presence obviously troubled Elizabeth, but Darcy tried to take no note of the shift in her d
eportment. “Certainly, Sir.” She sat up and began to twist her hair in a close style.

  “Why do you not leave it alone?” He gestured toward her efforts.

  She asked tentatively,“Are you sure, Sir?”

  He forced himself to smile at her as he sat next to her on the ground.“You have beautiful hair.”

  Unsure how to react to Darcy’s soft expression, Elizabeth hesitated before shaking out her hair and letting it fall casually along her neck and shoulders.

  “I have seen very little of you since my return to Pemberley,” Darcy began after an awkward silence.

  “I apologize if I offended you, Fitzwilliam.” Her use of his name seemed natural; the way the word rolled off Elizabeth’s tongue made Darcy feel as if she caressed him. “I thought it best to give you time to determine what you want of me.”

  “And I sought you out today to determine whether you wish to leave Pemberley—to establish yourself elsewhere.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and he noted Elizabeth struggled to find her voice.“If it is your wish for me to do so.” Elizabeth’s voice trembled, and a tear cascaded down her cheek before she could brush it away.

  “What is your wish, Madam?” Darcy tried to control the intonation in his words.

  Elizabeth looked away, afraid to meet his eyes or to allow his words to undo her. “I am not sure I can learn to live without your love, Fitzwilliam, but if you have no objections, for some time, I considered Pemberley to be my home.” She brought her eyes to rest on his countenance and to await his decision.

  For a brief, fleeting moment, Darcy saw the same look in Elizabeth’s eyes he saw in his dreams. “I would prefer to allow us a chance to create a home for our family; beyond that, I can offer you no promises. Obviously, though, we cannot find a balance in our lives if we avoid each other.”

  His words hurt Elizabeth deeply, but she tried to control the unevenness in her voice before speaking.“Do you suppose you could begin by calling me by my name? It hurts to be only Mrs. Darcy to you.”