“The pond is full of fish, though only this area is shallow enough for anyone to see them. That is why my parents let us play here unsupervised. The section just under the waterfall is deep; that is where we swam. By the way, can you swim?”
“I can. Father taught me almost as soon as I could walk and against my mother’s wishes, I might add. Who taught you?”
“Father tried to teach me the summer I was three, but I was too young to grasp the idea. The next year Richard showed me again, and I took to it straightaway. When she was old enough, I taught Georgiana.
“Just under that end of the waterfall,” he pointed to a narrower stream of water on the right, “is a good-sized cave. Richard and I discovered it the summer I was eight. Once, when we did something we should not have, we decided to hide in the cave. It never occurred to us—until it began to get dark—that we would have to face our parents eventually.” He shook his head. “Nevertheless, by the time we walked back to Pemberley, our mothers were so relieved to see us that our punishment was not quite as severe as it should have been. Of course, we never told a soul about our hideout.”
“Until now,” Elizabeth said, tilting her head up so that he caught the twinkle in her eyes.
“Until now,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her upturned face. As she looked back to the pond, she nestled deeper into his arms.
“And what horrible crime did you and Richard commit?”
“We entered a pasture to ride a young bull; however, we did not close the gate securely, and while we were concentrating on our goal, all the other livestock in that pasture escaped.”
“Why on earth would you want to ride a bull?”
“Richard’s older brother, the viscount, dared us. Silly motive, I know, but when you are young, a dare can be a challenge to your manhood. We were lucky to escape with our lives, and it took the staff several hours to round up the animals that had escaped. Needless to say, our fathers were furious. It was left to our mothers to save our hides.”
Elizabeth giggled. “So I should remember never to challenge your manhood, or you might do something foolish?”
William nuzzled her neck then kissed it. “I hope I am no longer as cheeky as I was at eight, but I shall meet any challenges you care to issue regarding my manhood, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Oh, but I would never need to issue such a challenge,” she replied impishly, “for now that we are lovers, I have no doubts about your manhood.”
Instantly, she was being turned around and kissed passionately, his lips melding with hers, while his fingers caressed her back. When she moaned in response, William broke the kiss, though he was breathing heavily.
He tilted his head towards a stand of trees. “There is a place just inside there.” His voice was rough with desire as he continued. “It is hidden from the world. When the responsibilities of Pemberley threatened to overwhelm me after Father died, it became my sanctuary. Would you like to see it?”
“I would love to.”
Sweeping her into his arms, he walked in that direction. Not far after entering the trees, they came upon a small clearing. Elizabeth’s thoughts flew to a book she had once read about a secret garden. The place was a perfect oval, filled with wildflowers and a thick carpet of grass. On the left was a small replica of the white gazebo that stood near the lake, though this structure’s intricately designed walls were hidden by flowering vines. In the centre of it stood a small table with two chairs of wrought-iron and a matching footstool to one side. Opposite the gazebo, hanging from a tall tree was a wooden swing, also painted white. Completely captivated, Elizabeth looked skyward to see glimpses of blue sky and rays of sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees.
“This place is very secure... very private,” William said. “No one can see in here just in passing. Do you think we might—would you possibly consider... ” His voice trailed off and he hesitated.
Turning to face him, she slid her fingers slowly up his chest, hearing his sharp intake of breath when at last they entwined the long hair at his collar.
“Will, I think this would be the perfect place to conceive a baby. What do you think?”
Immediately, she found herself engulfed in his embrace and being twirled in a circle. Then, inexplicably, he stopped and stepped back. “The blanket!” he exclaimed. “It is in one of the baskets. Wait right here, sweetheart!”
Instantly he vanished, leaving Elizabeth to giggle as he rushed away. Having no choice but to wait, she walked into the gazebo. In the middle of the table was something she had not noticed at first: a wooden box. Flipping open the lid, she found several books, including a Bible. Picking it up, she opened the cover to find stamped in gold Fitzwilliam George Darcy.
“That is one of my Bibles.”
William’s voice startled her and she turned. “I was just curious to whom it belonged.”
His white teeth flashed as he smiled. “I keep the Bible here because it is my habit to consult it whenever I have important decisions to make. I find the solitude of this place helps me to think more clearly.”
After she replaced the Bible in the box, Elizabeth took a handkerchief she had embroidered with her initials from the pocket of her gown. She placed it in the box and shut the lid. At William’s puzzled look, she explained, “I like the idea that something of mine is here with something that belongs to you. The handkerchief will have to do until I can replace it with a book of my own.”
William could not restrain himself from sweeping her off her feet and kissing her soundly. “I love how you think, Mrs. Darcy. Now, before I went to fetch the blanket, you were saying something about this being a good place to conceive our child.”
“I believe I was.”
THE ANIMALS OF THE forest were witness to the passion shared by William and Elizabeth on the blanket in the grass. And though there had been a marked increase in tittering among the squirrels and birds, the lovers were too occupied to notice. Later, when both were satiated and the forest was silent again, William lay on his back with his coat rolled up for a pillow, while Elizabeth lay in his arms. She faced him on her side, her head resting in the crook of his neck and one arm splayed across his chest.
“Is there anything I can get for you, my love? Some wine, perhaps, or something to eat?” William asked, pulling the blanket closer around her.
She smiled languorously. “I am not hungry. Just let me lie here for a little while longer. I want to remember this day forever.”
Warmth infused William from head to toe. “I will hold you as long as you wish.” Softly brushing his lips over hers, he then studied her with a wistful expression. “I have heard that love grows stronger with time, but I do not think I could possibly love you more than I do at this moment, my darling.”
Joyful beyond measure, he laid his head back and closed his eyes, and they promptly fell asleep. An hour had passed before the chatter of two red squirrels that had come down from the tree to get a closer look at the intruders woke the lovers.
Now they were hungry and ready to sample the fare that Mrs. Reynolds had sent. Overwhelmed by the array—fresh bread, cheese, ham, homemade pickles, fig preserves, grapes and apples, cakes and biscuits, and a bottle of wine—Elizabeth expressed amusement, saying the picnics at Longbourn were much more modest. In his usual meticulous way, William explained that Mrs. Reynolds always included a large variety in order to provide them a selection, and they were not expected to eat everything.
For his trouble, a grape hit him in the forehead, falling into his lap as Elizabeth giggled mischievously. “Will, we are from such different backgrounds that I am amazed that we are so well-suited.”
Chuckling at her sauciness, he fed her the grape. “We may have differed in our stations, but we are alike in our integrity, our goals and our desires.”
“Well said.” Elizabeth replied. Then her thoughts flew to another subject. “May we wade in the water as soon as we finish eating? I love the feel of pebbles under my toes. We have a stream at Longbourn, and I
used to wade there all the time.”
“Whatever you desire, we shall do.”
Later, except for a quick detour to pick some wildflowers which he fashioned into a crown for her head, they went directly to the shallow end of the pond. Vowing not to get her dress wet, Elizabeth removed her shoes and stockings, gathered her skirts and held them aloft. Even so, she complained that it was unfair that she had to go to such trouble while William’s tall boots kept him dry.
William winked. “That is just the way it is, sweetheart. I am a man; I stay dry because I wear the boots in the family.”
Seeing how pleased he was with himself, Elizabeth plotted her revenge. Waiting until his back was turned, she began soaking him with water. When he ran after her, splashing her in retaliation, she got so tickled that she slipped off one of the rocks that served as a bridge across the water and wet the bottom of her gown. Running also played great havoc with her hair, causing it to escape its pins. The results were ringlets of dark curls framing her face while the rest cascaded down her back.
She had no way of knowing, but the sight of her fine legs and unruly hair caused a noticeable reaction in William. Not wishing to interrupt her amusement, he had turned away; however, after she splashed him with water, all resolve vanished and he chased her back to the secret garden. Once more, the blanket—abandoned only a short while before—proved the most useful item Mrs. Reynolds had packed for the trip.
WITH THE SUN WANING, Elizabeth found herself sitting in front of William again as Zeus slowly made his way back down the hillside. Weary from their activities, she had unbuttoned her husband’s coat, wrapped her arms around his waist and hid her face in his chest. Glancing at her now, William smiled at the crown of flowers she had placed in her hair again. Utterly happy, he placed a soft kiss atop her head as he tightened his grip. Then recalling all the times he had asked God for a wife, he smiled contentedly.
You are everything I have ever wanted, my darling Elizabeth. I could not have chosen anyone more perfect.
If the servants were surprised to see the master and mistress dismount in front of the manor house with their clothes and hair in disarray and soaked with water, they were trained not to show it. William found it hard not to smile as Elizabeth walked past the footmen with a crown of wildflowers in her hair, and Mrs. Reynolds greeted her as though she looked perfectly normal. He coughed to cover a laugh.
“Mrs. Darcy,” the housekeeper said with a practiced smile, “I was beginning to wonder if you and Mr. Darcy were going to be home before dark.”
Elizabeth looked back to William with a mischievous grin. “If it were up to my husband, we might have spent the night under the stars.”
Unable to resist, William took her hand and led her toward the stairs. As he did, he addressed the housekeeper.
“Mrs. Reynolds, my wife and I are in need of a nap. Please advise everyone that dinner will be served an hour later.”
“I shall be happy to, sir.”
Watching until they were completely out of sight, the long-time servant then broke into a wide smile.
This is how it should have been all along .
PATE’S FARM NEAR LAMBTON
Two days later
The old house was sturdy, if not fancy, and that proved especially advantageous today, for while it was pouring rain outside, the house was warm and dry. Nevertheless, the men encamped at Pate’s old farmhouse were not in the mood to count their blessings, given that their last robbery had been a complete fiasco.
“I thought you said that Lord Cottingham would be travelling with a fortune!” George Wickham complained, throwing an empty satchel to the floor. He picked up some rings on the table and eyed them once again. “There was nothing in his entire coach worth going to Sheffield to sell, not even these paste emeralds!”
“I cannot guarantee that every tip I get is sound!” Denny protested angrily. We win some and lose some. If you do not like the odds, then perhaps you should go back to whatever you were doing and leave us alone!”
Wickham shrugged. Denny was right. “I am sorry. I know it is not your fault old Cottingham was travelling with little cash and fake jewels. What bothers me is that we shot a footman over this... this rubbish. Now that someone has died, we shall attract more attention from the law.”
Pate spoke up. “I had to shoot him. He pulled a pistol from his coat, and there was nothing left to do.”
“Pate is right,” Andrew proclaimed. “He could have killed one of us.”
“This is a ridiculous discussion!” Denny cried. “We all knew from the start that there was the possibility we would have to kill someone. We were just lucky it did not happen before now.”
“That is how I see it,” the man called Buck volunteered. “We have to keep ourselves alive first and foremost.”
“Aye,” Pate agreed, “but we had best be more careful, for George is right. We will be known throughout the region now.”
Denny walked over to the hearth, propping one dirty boot against it. “The more I think of it, the more I believe we had better stay where we are, maybe for as long as several months. Make them think we have quit before we strike again.”
“But... but,” Andrew protested. “I need money now in order to redeem my estate.”
“That is your problem, not ours,” Denny said matter-of-factly.
Andrew’s expression grew angry, but a hand on his shoulder caused him to look up at Wickham, who shook his head. Then George walked to the front door and opened it, revealing the deluge still raging outside.
“Care to help me tend the horses, Andrew?”
Having abandoned the horses in the barn in a rush to look through the plunder, it was past time to unsaddle and feed them. And since the only servant was an elderly woman who cooked and kept house, it fell to them to care for the animals.
Realising that Wickham wished to talk in private, Andrew agreed, and they both went out the door. Once inside the dilapidated barn, they set about unsaddling the horses while they talked.
“There is no need to say anything more to Denny,” Wickham said as he pulled a saddle off a chestnut stallion and set it on the wall of a stall. “He is right, you know. We have to put a halt to the robberies.”
“How am I to make any money?” Andrew retorted as he unsaddled his own bay.
“It seems to me that you should do what Susan said. Take what you have and what she will lend you and make an offer to Darcy. Who knows, he may agree and let you have more time.”
“I have the feeling that Fitz has given up on me.”
“Well, in any case, that is the only option. We can always do something drastic if your overture fails.”
“Such as?”
“I have said all along that you should kill that tyrant, Fitzwilliam. You can still wrap Georgiana around your little finger, and no doubt she would be nicer to you with her brother out of the way.”
Andrew threw down the bridle he was holding. “Are you insane? Richard would see me hang, and you, too, if he thought you were involved.”
Wickham shrugged. “Not if he could not prove it. In any case, it is just a suggestion. For now, use Lady Susan’s plan and see what happens.”
“I have no choice. I shall visit Monthaven tomorrow.”
“I think I shall join you this time. After all, I have not seen my old friend for far too long.”
“As long as you behave, you may accompany me.”
Wickham put his hand on his heart. “You wound me.”
“I shall wound you if you ruin my arrangement with Susan. Just remember that.”
Wickham did not reply, for too many thoughts were running through his mind. There was money to be had in fleecing Pemberley, and now that his only avenue to riches was closed, he wanted to be a part of it. If Andrew was too frightened to kill his cousin, he was not. And Wickham was convinced that once Fitzwilliam Darcy was dead, the path to Georgiana’s fortune would open like a music box for Andrew—and for him.
Perhaps , he mus
ed, the path to the new Mrs. Darcy’s riches will open, too.
“What are you day-dreaming about?” Andrew barked. “I have asked three times if you are ready to go back inside.”
George smiled. “I was considering all the money we will have once we resume the robberies. And to answer your question, yes, I am ready to go inside.”
“Do not count your chickens before they hatch.” A loud clap of thunder signalled another downpour. “No need for us to wait! This rain is not going to let up!”
With that, Andrew rushed out into the rain. Shrugging, Wickham pulled his collar up and followed.
Chapter 33
Monthaven Manor
The next day
After Lord Attaway returned from running an errand for Lady Susan’s father, he walked into the main library at Monthaven expecting to find Andrew Darcy conversing with his cousin. After all, Susan had received a note saying Andrew was coming today. Instead, standing next to her by the windows was George Wickham, a man he had never liked. He and Lady Susan were talking very secretively and promptly became silent upon his entry. Still, as both turned to face him, he pasted on a smile.
“Wickham! It has been ages since I last saw you. When was it? At my cousin’s ball in London three years past?”
“I believe that is correct,” Wickham replied blandly.
Attaway nodded and then addressed Susan. “Where is Andrew? I thought he was to be here today.”
Susan, who had been drinking almost steadily for the last hour, finished the brandy left in her glass before answering him. “Had you returned on time, you might have seen him. Andrew stayed only long enough to get what he wanted—my money— and then headed straight to Pemberley.”
Attaway was surprised that Susan would discuss her arrangement with Andrew in front of Wickham. Seeing his perplexed expression, she declared, “Do not be alarmed. George, Andrew and I have been confidants all of our lives. What one knows, the others know.”
Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple Page 55