by Ola Wegner
He did not say anything more. She glanced up at him, and seeing his expectant expression, she guessed he wished her to make some comment. She had no desire to speak. She felt disgusted.
“I went to her yesterday,” he spoke again. “She admitted she had done what she did on purpose, to separate us. She hoped that you would break with me after her revelation. I told her in no uncertain terms that there is no such possibility for me to come back to her. She will not bother you or Georgiana anymore.”
She kept silent and stubbornly looked out the window. It hurt too much to even speak of it, especially to him.
“Say something,” he pleaded, reaching for her hand. She allowed him to keep her cold hand in his.
“She must love you if she risked so much,” she whispered, surprised how hoarse her voice sounded.
“I do not care about her. If she cares for me, it is no concern of mine. She knows the terms of a mistress’s contract. I paid for services which she agreed to deliver. Affection is not—was not—an option. Whatever she felt for me is her problem. I felt nothing for her.”
She looked him straight in the eye, perhaps for the first time today. “Are you certain?” she asked, surprised with the coldness in her voice. “You have been with her for quite a long time. I do understand that you would not wish to marry someone like her, as it would bring shame to your family name. We both know how much it means to you.”
He brought her hand to his cheek, kissing the inside of her palm. “Do not say that. I love only you.”
She hunched her shoulders and looked down. She wished to stop feeling, if only for a short moment, to feel indifferent, numb to everything and everyone around her.
“Love, please, look at me.”
She shook her head, tears running down her cheeks. He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him.
“I swear on my mother’s grave, I have not been with her since last December. I will never be with her again—not ever—even if…if you were to leave me,” he said in a faint whisper.
She could see the sincerity in his eyes, his handsome face. Could she trust him? Her heart and mind answered no, but perhaps she expected too much. She would be able to build a good life for herself in Derbyshire. She would be a mistress of a beautiful estate, feel needed there. She would have children and enjoy the company of Georgiana, who proved her loyalty to her and was a good friend. Should she really wish for more? Was it realistic? Darcy was not wholly bad. She would never have what aunt Madeline had; that was for sure. However, he was generous and responsible; he would take care of her. He would never hurt her physically, what her aunt feared for her. He had had the opportunity yesterday when she had slapped and kicked him, and still he had never lost his temper with her. He did not seem to like children very much, but she doubted that he would neglect them. She would love their children for both of them, so they would never feel unwanted.
She nodded slightly, and it was enough to bring an expression of enormous relief to his face.
“Thank you, love.” He moved to his knees in front of her, placing his head on her lap. “I will make this up to you, I promise.”
She placed her hands over his shoulder, and he pushed farther into her body. They sat like that for a long time, till a whimper from the bed caught Elizabeth's attention.
She pushed Darcy away, and he looked up at her, disoriented.
She stood while Darcy was still on his knees, and hurried to the bed. Fred’s blue eyes were open, and he was looking around for a familiar face.
He smiled instantly as he saw Elizabeth, reaching to him. She picked the baby up in her arms, swaying him gently. “You are awake, are you not? Yes, you are. Have you had a pleasant nap?” she cooed.
“Did we wake him?” Darcy asked, standing next to them.
“No, he just wanted a small reassurance that he was not alone,” she said, smiling at the boy, kissing his hand.
“You seem attached to him,” Darcy noted.
“He is my Godson,” she explained.
“I did not know.”
Elizabeth walked around the room with the baby, till she sat with him in the armchair. “Could you pass me that woollen blanket?” She pointed to the bed.
He fetched it instantly, and she wrapped it around the boy, whose eyelids were once again falling.
“Is he not beautiful?” she asked as Fred fell asleep for a second time, rooting his head against her chest.
“A handsome boy to be sure.”
She leaned down and inhaled. “Babies have the most delightful scent.” She looked up. “I have a favour to ask of you. It concerns the wedding.”
He nodded, watching her with an earnest expression, and she could see fear in his eyes.
“I was wondering whether the wedding can take place here, in London.”
“You wish to postpone?” he asked quickly.
She shook her head. “No, no, I do not. However, I do not feel the strength to face my mother, my younger sisters, and the entire neighbourhood. I want a quiet wedding, just my aunt and uncle, and your sister.”
“What about Jane?”
“Jane,” she sighed, “yes, I will miss her, but I will write her a long letter, explaining everything to her. She will understand.”
“Everything you want,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, “I will provide. I purchased a license some time ago; we can marry whenever we wish.”
“Thank you,” she nodded. “I will carry Fred to his crib,” she said, standing up. “He should wake soon, and he will be hungry.”
As she left Darcy alone in her room, she prayed that she was making the right decision for herself. She knew that she had to be strong, and fight for her future happiness or at least her peace of mind and emotional stability.
Chapter Nineteen
“Let us see, as for the first course... roast beef ribs with boiled vegetables, but only if we do not find good, fat chickens tomorrow... I would prefer chickens, naturally, much more elegant. Then baked pudding, two soups, white soup and pease-pottage, and fish of course, salmon sounds good. While for the second course, something lighter perhaps... fruit cakes, lemon tarts, cheesecakes, oysters and shellfish,” Mrs. Gardiner mused, frowning over a menu, scribbling quickly with a small pencil. “What do you think, Lizzy? Will Mr. Darcy approve?”
Elizabeth did not give an instant answer, causing her aunt to ask. “You consider peas soup too common? We may replace it with Hartshorn Jelly served in my new crystal glasses.”
Elizabeth shrugged her arms dismissively. “This dinner is so much trouble for you and uncle, as well as so much expense. There is truly no need for it.”
Mrs. Gardiner regarded her niece for a long moment with a frown.
“Elizabeth, I do understand that the circumstances of your wedding are not what one would wish them to be, however, the attitude you displayed in the last days... is so unlike you. It is what I would expect from Lydia perhaps, or even Kitty, but not you. You refused having a wedding breakfast, very well, you do not want your mother to be present, I can understand that as well. Nevertheless, let me at least throw a dinner for Mr. Darcy’s family - his sister and cousin. It is only right.”
A single tear rolled down Elizabeth’s cheek. “I want Jane to be here,” she whispered.
“May I remind you that it was your idea to have the wedding in London, away from your sisters?”
“I never wanted to be away from Jane,” Elizabeth sniffed, her voice croaking.
Mrs. Gardiner moved her chair closer to Elizabeth’s. “Lizzy, what is the matter? What is happening to you?”
Elizabeth put her head on the table on her folded arms, hiding her face from view. “I am so unhappy.”
Her aunt rubbed her back in a soothing motion. “These are just bridal nerves.”
Elizabeth looked up, her cheeks wet from tears. “He has a lover,” she blurted.
“Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Gardiner whispered unbelievably. “That cannot be. He i
s so enamoured of you.”
“It is the truth,” Elizabeth whispered brokenly.
“Tis why you were so upset and put yourself to bed for two days,” the older woman guessed. “I wondered what had happened to put you in such a state. I simply thought that the two of you had had an argument. He was so contrite, asking to see you that day, desperate almost, now I can see why.”
Elizabeth bit her lower lip, tears running steadily down her face. “I saw her in the shop that day. She asked to have the bill for her hat sent to Mr. Darcy as always.”
“What did he say about it?” Mrs. Gardiner asked with a grim expression.
Elizabeth blew out a puff of air and dried her cheeks with the back of her palm. “He denied it, saying that the romance was finished months ago, long before he proposed to me.”
“You do not believe him?”
“I do not know whether I should believe him. I am so confused. Everything has happened so fast.”
“Oh, dear. Dear, dear.” Mrs. Gardiner patted her back. “I think that we should tell your uncle and postpone the wedding.”
“No!” Elizabeth protested. “You cannot.”
“Elizabeth,” the woman placed a calming hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder, “your uncle will talk to him. You still have a family to protect you. He should answer some questions. He cannot think that he can do whatever he wishes.”
“No, aunt, please, promise me that you will not tell anything to uncle,” Elizabeth begged. “I am so ashamed of this.”
“It is not you who should be ashamed,” Mrs. Gardiner spoke firmly. “It is Mr. Darcy who should be embarrassed by his actions.”
Elizabeth stared at her with teary eyes. “Please do not mention anything to uncle.”
Mrs. Gardiner hesitated for a minute before nodding. “Very well... I will not talk to him about it for now, however, I want you tell me in greater detail what exactly happened.”
“I will,” she nodded, touching her forehead. “I cannot wrap my mind around it on my own.”
“Your uncle should return home soon, but I will come to your room later after I put the children to bed.”
Elizabeth nodded again, taking a handkerchief out of her pocket.
“Perhaps, you should wash your face with cold water,” Mrs. Gardiner suggested. “I do not wish your uncle to see that you have been crying again. It worries him.”
Elizabeth stood up and moved to the door with the intention of going upstairs to refresh herself. She was passing through the foyer when the doorbell rang. The hour was late, and she could not guess who the visitor might be. Surely it was not her uncle, for he would have simply walked in. She was not expecting Darcy either, because he assured her he would be very busy today, and that they would not see him till tomorrow’s dinner.
Elizabeth waited till the servant opened the door, and to her great surprise, her sister Jane was standing in the doorway, with a small trunk behind her.
“Jane?!” Elizabeth ran to her. “What are you doing here?”
“Could you imagine me not attending the wedding of my most beloved sister?” Jane asked, laughing.
“I am so happy to have you here!” Elizabeth exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “However, what are you doing here? How?”
“Mr. Darcy, together with Colonel Fitzwilliam, brought me,” Jane explained simply.
Elizabeth lifted on her toes to gaze past her sister. “Where is he?”
“He did not wish to interrupt.”
“Jane!” Mrs. Gardiner's voice was heard behind them. “What a surprise!”
Elizabeth pushed past her sister and ran to the pavement outside the front door. She saw Darcy's carriage slowly pulling away.
“Ay!” she cried impulsively, running a few yards.
The driver must have heard her, because he turned his head, and seeing her, stopped the carriage. As Elizabeth caught up with the vehicle, the door opened and Darcy stepped out.
“Thank you!” she cried impulsively.
He laughed. “You are very welcome.”
“You did not have to,” she added.
He took a step closer, touching her cheek. “I knew you could not imagine your wedding day without Jane.”
She smiled, nodding, then lifted on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
He frowned and pulled her away from him to inspect her face in the early evening light. “You have been crying again,” he murmured worriedly.
She shook her head, smiling. “Tis only bridal nerves, as my aunt says. I am well.”
“Miss Bennet!” Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice boomed near them, bringing their attention. “It is a pleasure to see you in such high spirits.”
Elizabeth grinned. “The pleasure is all mine, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I assure you.”
“Go back to carriage. I wish a word in private with my lady,” Darcy spoke brusquely, scowling.
Elizabeth blanched at Darcy’s obvious rudeness. “Will I see you at the dinner tomorrow evening, Colonel Fitzwilliam?” she asked pleasantly, trying to cover Darcy’s blunder.
The man bowed. “With great pleasure. Please give my thanks to Mrs. Gardiner for inviting me.”
She nodded, smiling. “I will.”
Darcy kept glaring at his cousin till he turned on his feet, returning to the carriage. Elizabeth chuckled, hearing colonel murmuring to himself about where he could find a girl running after his horse, wanting to thank him.
“You were so rude to him,” Elizabeth whispered, once she was sure that colonel was out of earshot.
Darcy did not look even a bit remorseful. “He should have stayed in the carriage. It is not his business.”
“He only wished to say hello.”
Darcy shrugged, “I do not care.” He put his arms around her. “I will see you tomorrow evening.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “We have just been discussing the menu. My aunt is very excited about the dinner.”
He pulled her closer, so their bodies touched. “The day after tomorrow, before this hour, you will be my wife,” he murmured in a low voice, before he caught her lips in a gentle kiss. “I am so happy,” he whispered near her ear, before kissing her neck.
She shivered, more from the touch of his lips on her skin than the coolness of the early evening air.
“You should go back before you catch a cold,” he spoke with authority, running his hands over her bare arms as her dress was short sleeved.
Elizabeth whispered good night, and after one more kiss, she walked away. As she turned her head, just before entering the house, she saw that he was still standing on the street beside the open carriage doors, looking after her.
***
“I feel responsible for all that mess,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
Darcy shook his head. “Not your fault.”
The cousins sat in the darkened study, with the only light coming from the fireplace.
“You found Annette through me, after all.”
“I said that it was not your fault. I have only myself to blame,” Darcy murmured, putting another log to the fire.
“You could not have known she would act in such a way,” his cousin pointed reasonably. “Annette appeared reliable, smart about matters.”
Darcy sank into an armchair, stretching out his long legs. “I should have been more careful in my dealings with women and trusted no one.”
“What do you mean? You were always very circumspect, very discreet.”
“I tell you one thing only, if in some twenty years, my son comes to me asking to raise his allowance because he wants to take a mistress, I will tell him to keep it in his breeches till he finds someone he wants to marry.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam gave him a long, searching, slightly confused look. “Are you not too harsh with yourself?”
“Too harsh? No! You should have seen Elizabeth’s face... Georgiana’s too.” Darcy grimaced. “Annette attempted to approach her for over a year. Can you believe that? What a fool I was not to see her true character. I have
already had a talk with the shop owner. I sincerely hope Elizabeth and Georgiana will choose to patronize some other shop.”
“I understand how upset you must be about this situation, but you are hardly a rake,” the other man pointed out calmly.
“That is not the point. Elizabeth is disgusted with me. I can see it in her eyes.”
“But you explained what happened. She believed you.”
“She has no other choice but to believe me, Richard. Her mother and sisters are at my mercy, so she plays accordingly to show me her gratitude. I do not even wish to guess her true opinion of me. She understands our union as a duty, and all the warm gestures on her part belong to her inborn kindness, and not her feelings for me.”
“I think you are too impatient. You have been engaged for such a short time, and she still knows little of you.”
Darcy curled his hand into a fist, striking his thigh with force. “I am simply furious with myself, my own stupidity. I have bought women all my adult life, and I want to buy her. I am not worthy of her. She is a far better person than I.”
“Darcy, Darcy, calm down. You worry too much. Yes, the situation with Annette was unpleasant, but after you two are married for some time, Elizabeth will see the true you. She will learn to trust you, respect you, and eventually love you.”
“I am not so certain of it,” Darcy murmured darkly. “You know what she told me? She said that she could not wait to have a child so she could have someone to love.”
“Well, you should be glad!” Colonel laughed jovially. “You two will be busy making little Darcys. I can think of many less pleasant activities.”
“Glad?” Darcy stared at his cousin with incredulity. “She sees me as some kind of stud.”
“And I am certain you will meet her expectations admirably.”
“Richard, be serious for once! You do not understand what I am saying at all,” Darcy cried with irritation.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was silent for a longer moment, only watching Darcy with thoughtful expression. “I do comprehend,” he said in a quiet, suddenly serious voice. “You actually want her to love you and respect you for yourself, and not for who you are in the eyes of the world. I never thought you to be such a romantic at heart. You never spoke about your... well...” He made a wide gesture with his hands. “...feelings.”