“How do you know that Mrs. Darcy is still alive?”
“My cousin would give his life to protect Elizabeth. If he is alive, she is alive. Now, see to everyone else.”
Richard was mounting Titan when a shot rang out. The sound of a rifle came from the direction William and Andrew had just taken, so he instantly raced down the drive. In no time at all, he reached the spot where his cousin still sat his horse, while Andrew lay on the ground. Jumping off his mount, Richard pulled William from his, shielding his body with his own as he guided him to the nearby cluster of trees for safety.
“Darcy? Are you injured?”
“I am not.”
Reaching into his boot, Richard removed a knife, which he used to cut the ropes binding his cousin. Meanwhile, several men surrounded the scene, among them Lord Warren, who still held his hunting rifle. Seeing who it was, William and Richard stepped out.
“I apologise if I frightened you,” Warren said. “I had a clear view of Andrew, and since it was apparent that he was holding Fitzwilliam hostage—his hands being tied while Andrew held the reins—I took the shot.”
“What are you doing here?” Richard asked as he rolled Andrew over to discover that he had been shot between the eyes.
“I have been tracking Andrew for some time, and I realised that he was also being followed by others—Bow Street Runners, I had been told. I assumed Fitzwilliam had them on his trail and if I followed them, they would lead me to Andrew. Fortuitously, I was right.”
“I just wish Andrew’s choices had been different. He had all that he needed to succeed,” William said.
“Yet he allowed jealousy and greed to rule his life,” Richard declared.
“And this is the result,” William added. Then he returned to his horse and, after mounting, addressed Lord Warren. “Whatever your reason for being here, I am indebted to you.”
“I was determined to settle my family’s business, hopefully, on a field of honour. However, finding Andrew in the midst of more evil, I am pleased to have settled it in this manner. At least today there is one less rogue left to prey on innocent young women.”
“I cannot disagree with that,” William answered sombrely. Then he tilted his head towards Briarwood Manor. “If you will excuse me, I must see to my wife.”
“I am pleased to hear you say that, Darcy,” Lord Warren exhorted. “A man’s most valuable possessions are his wife and his children. My own dear father taught me that. They must come first for, without them, true happiness is unattainable.”
“How well I know,” William whispered.
Then he kicked his horse into a gallop, eager to return to the one who had taught him that truth.
ON THE ROAD TO PEMBERLEY
Having spent the whole ordeal locked in a room at Briarwood, their legs and hands bound except when they ate, Bingley and Darcy’s servants had continually feared for their lives. Their anxiety had increased substantially after the shot that killed Wickham echoed throughout the manor, and when a short while later footsteps came down the hall and stopped at their door, the tension became unbearable. Nonetheless, simultaneous sighs of relief were released once the door opened to reveal Coleridge and Harahan standing without. Afterward, they had joined Elizabeth and her maid in the dining room, while Hartley and what servants remained at the manor were secured in another room. There, the Bow Street Runners were on guard until it was decided what would be their lot.
Now that Bingley was on his way back to Pemberley in the Darcys’ comfortable coach, he was painfully aware that if he and the maid were not present, his friend and future sister would likely be engaged in more pleasant pursuits. As it was, all William could do was pull his wife into his lap and hold her tightly to his chest while the coach raced home. The steady sway of the vehicle had finally lulled Elizabeth to sleep, leaving William free to kiss the top of her head, while his fingers slid softly back and forth across her back reassuringly.
Fully cognizant that he was intruding, Bingley had considered taking one of the horses back to Pemberley before remembering that Betsey would be occupying the coach as well. He glanced to the end of the seat where the maid was asleep and snoring softly. Looking back to William, a frown formed. The events of the last few days weighed heavily on his mind, and seeing that everyone else was sound asleep, Bingley took the opportunity to speak.
“I am sorry, Darcy.”
William’s eyes flicked from Elizabeth to Bingley. Noting his friend’s strained expression, he said, “I fail to understand. There is no need to apologise.”
“I should have protected Elizabeth. I should never have let us be taken.”
“Charles, there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened, as evidenced by the wound on the back of your head. Elizabeth said that she thought you were dead when she saw you lying in the mud.”
“I should have realised we were under attack, but I did not. If I had been more observant—”
“Nonsense!” William declared a bit too loudly, making Elizabeth stir. More quietly he added, “Nothing would have changed if you had been aware from the beginning... except that you might have been killed.” Then William smiled slightly. “I know that you would give your life to protect Elizabeth, and that is sufficient to satisfy me.”
Bingley nodded, sank back into the comfortable seat and smiled. Darcy was right. He would have died protecting Elizabeth if it had come to that. Feeling much better, he leaned into the corner of the coach and closed his eyes. And, for the first time since they had been taken hostage, he slept.
Chapter 48
Pemberley
That same day
Midnight found William and Elizabeth wrapped in a sheet and lying in each other’s arms on one of the upholstered chaises occupying their balcony. The heat created by their earlier activities, as well as the summer temperatures, had made staying in their bed insupportable. Thus, about an hour after they had retired, William gathered his wife in his arms and carried her out into the cooler night air where once more they engaged in the privileges of married love. Having relations on the balcony was nothing new, for they had often done so before his injury but, given all that had transpired, sharing love under the stars had proved magical.
Afterward, completely satiated and wide awake, they lay on their backs searching for Sirius amongst scores of luminous stars spread across the dark velvet expanse of sky. Elizabeth had suggested the search in hopes of keeping William from dwelling on the earlier events of the day.
“There it is!” she cried, pointing to the brightest star in the sky. “And there is the Plough of Ursa Major, which means the North Star is... here! I wager that I can locate another constellation before you do.”
William could not hold back a chuckle, and it caused Elizabeth to tip her head back and look up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome that she smiled in spite of wanting to feign insult.
“What is so amusing? That I located it first?”
“Not at all. I am amused and amazed, Mrs. Darcy, to find that a young woman from the tiny village of Meryton knows so much about astronomy—not to mention literature, foreign languages, botany and heaven knows what else—all without the benefit of a governess.”
“Did you and Caroline Bingley not discuss this very subject while I stayed at Netherfield?” William groaned, causing her to stifle a giggle. “If I remember correctly, in your opinion, an accomplished woman would likely know all of that and more.”
“Must you remind me of my arrogance?”
This elicited a full-out laugh from Elizabeth. She teased, “Well, I must say that your superiority is still showing a tad.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you pronounced amazement at the extent of my education. Having no son, my father took it upon himself to teach me all the subjects he would have taught an heir. Happily, I was a voracious reader, and I loved to learn. Howbeit, I did have my favourites—literature and astronomy.”
“Alas, another reminder of my failure to
see what was right before my eyes.”
“I do not understand.”
“Only months ago, I stood in this same spot, staring at the same stars and questioning God.” He chuckled. “I am mortified to admit it now, but I was angry, and I demanded to know why He had not answered my prayers.”
“What prayers were those?”
“After university, the majority of my friends were blessed to marry and start families. I envied them. Ever since then, I prayed that He would send a woman I could love—one I would be proud to have as the mother of my children. In hindsight,” he added wistfully, “when God answered, I was too blind to see it. He sent you to Netherfield because you were the perfect match for me.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I am far from perfect!”
“For me you are,” William said. Then he leaned in to give her a gentle kiss.
Tenderly, she examined the bruises on his face and the split in the corner of his mouth, all inflicted by Wickham. “Does it hurt terribly?”
“Not enough to keep me from kissing you.” He proceeded to demonstrate.
“I am glad,” she sighed. Then she settled back into the crook of his arm and began anew to study the sky. “Now, let me see if I can best you again by finding Lyra first.”
A strong breeze brought the scent of roses wafting up from the garden below, and William’s thoughts flew to the one who had planted them—his mother. That brought to mind the night their marriage had begun in earnest at her cottage. At once, recently unearthed memories began to play across his mind as though scenes on a stage—delivering the tenant’s child, picnicking at the pond, splashing in the water, and making love in the secret garden. Unfortunately, the events of the past few days intruded, reminding him that he had almost lost her. Incapable of focusing on the sky any longer, his gaze returned to Elizabeth.
Unaware of being examined, she looked perfectly angelic—her kissable lips having settled into an innocent pout as she searched the skies. Love flooded him, and he turned to her. Cupping her face with one hand, he murmured hoarsely, “I shall never be able to put into words how deeply I love you, Elizabeth.”
At once his fingertips began a slow trickle from her face to her neck, across her décolletage and down to her breasts, before coming to rest on her abdomen. “Nor can I explain how overjoyed I am that you are carrying my child.”
“I understand,” Elizabeth murmured. “At times, our love is so overpowering that I am unable to find words to express it myself.”
“I cannot believe that in all this tumult I failed to ask when our child will be born.”
“If I have figured correctly, it will be the end of February or the beginning of March. According to Aunt Olivia, I shall know more precisely once I feel the quickening.”
“My mother’s birthday was the third day of March.” His voice rose along with his excitement. “Mayhap the babe will wait until then!”
Elizabeth chuckled. “I believe that he will come when he is ready, birthday or no.”
“He?”
“I am certain that I am having a boy.”
His eyes twinkled as both dimples cut deeply into his face. “Are you a clairvoyant?”
“No,” she said with a giggle. “But I listened often enough when Mrs. Harris explained the signs to expectant mothers—whether they were carrying a boy or a girl.”
“Pray share them with me.”
“Many signs will not be evident until later, such as how I carry the child—whether low or high. That being said, I have not felt sick at my stomach as most carrying girls do at this stage. I have had more headaches, my feet are colder than normal, and my hair is shinier whilst my skin is dryer. Not to mention that my stomach has already increased a little. There are more recorded in my notebook.”
“I am astounded,” William said. “But, know this. I care not whether our child is a boy or girl, only that it is healthy and, needless to say, that you are in good health during and after your confinement.”
“Do you not wish for an heir?”
“God willing, an heir will come. But Pemberley is not entailed to the male line, so do not fret about birthing a son.”
“That is good to know, but I assure you,” Elizabeth patted her stomach, “this is a boy.”
William slid down until he was able to lay his head on her stomach. “I cannot wait to meet you, little one.”
In a flash, the desire to make love overruled his previous vow to let her rest. “Elizabeth, I long to love you again,” he murmured, the tone of his voice now velvety with longing. “However, I would not overtax you. If you are too tired, just say—”
A finger against his lips halted his entreaty. Elizabeth’s eyes were limpid, her beauty softened by an air of languor. “I want you, too.”
His heart was pounding so hard that the blood thrumming though his ears made it difficult to hear her answer, but he was able to read her lips. He captured them eagerly, and Elizabeth responded with equal intensity, extracting a groan of pleasure from him. He murmured words of love and devotion as they joined, and what began as a slow rhythm progressed into lovemaking as feverishly as before, both reaching fulfilment swiftly. Breathless, William collapsed and quickly rolled onto his back.
Once he was able to speak, he gasped, “Sweetheart, you are the only woman who can make my heart stand still.”
Smiling mischievously, Elizabeth ruffled his hair. “I think your heart has been standing still a great deal tonight.”
“You minx!” he exclaimed, running his fingers across her ticklish abdomen. He stopped when she pleaded for him to and he kissed her tenderly.
As both recovered, Elizabeth began to chuckle. “Would you believe that I once told Jane that I would marry only for the deepest love, and for that reason I was likely to end up an old maid? I remember feeling so mature and clever. In hindsight, had I known of the bliss to be found in your arms, I would never have said such a thing.”
William nuzzled her hair, placing a kiss there. “I once stunned Richard by saying that I had concluded that happiness in marriage was highly overrated. So you see, we are both guilty of speaking glibly about things of which we had no experience.”
“I can only conclude that our marriage was truly a match made in heaven,” Elizabeth declared, “for we made so many mistakes in the beginning.”
“Given the gulf between us when we married, God’s hand had to have been in it.”
“That is a comforting thought.”
“Very comforting.”
They were both silent for a time before William spoke.
“Tomorrow will be another day filled with difficult decisions. So I propose that you close your eyes and try to sleep. I promise not to disturb you again.”
“The question is whether you will be able to sleep? I know that your cousin’s death weighs heavily on you, even if he brought it on himself.”
“You know me well,” William said. Taking a deep breath he let it go. “If I have learned one thing from you, it is to remember the past only as it gives me pleasure. So when those thoughts come, I shall replace them with memories of us.”
Elizabeth brushed a soft kiss across his mouth. “I am glad. Sleep well, my darling husband.”
“And you, my love.”
Waiting until her breath began a rhythmic pattern, William tucked the sheet tighter about Elizabeth, drew her into his arms and closed his eyes. Given all that they experienced that day, it was not long until he drifted to sleep as well.
Tonight his dreams were of a different kind. He was chasing a small boy with dark curls and fine brown eyes through the gardens of Pemberley. Whenever he came close to capturing the child, Elizabeth would appear just ahead, and the boy would run into her arms. Then, amidst peals of laughter, the three of them would hug each other tightly.
Though the dream repeated throughout the night, William was oblivious to the fact that each time it did, he smiled in his sleep.
THE NEXT DAY
On the balcony
T
he sun was not yet up when William woke. Elizabeth was still soundly sleeping, so he carried her back into the bedroom, where he laid her on the bed and covered her with the counterpane. While he was accomplishing that, she roused slightly.
“Will?” she murmured groggily.
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Try to go back to sleep. It is early, and you and the babe need rest. I shall be back in an hour or so, and we shall break our fast together.”
“Come back,” was all she managed to utter before slipping back into the arms of Morpheus.
Entering his dressing room, he found Adams already laying out his clothes. There was plenty of warm water in the basin, and William proceeded to wash and then dress for the day. Before long, he was on his way downstairs.
Mr. Walker was crossing the foyer when he spied the master descending the grand staircase. He waited at the bottom until William met him there.
“Sir, Colonel Fitzwilliam asked me to inform you that he is in the dining room.”
“What time did he return last night?”
“It was after midnight. I waited up to be sure that he returned.”
“Thank you for your diligence. You certainly did not have to trouble yourself.”
“It was no trouble. I am quite fond of that young man.”
William patted the elderly butler’s shoulder. “I know.”
“Besides, I was not without company. Captain Fitzwilliam stayed up too.”
Shaking his head, William said, “That does not surprise me either.” Then he glanced toward the dining room. “Is anyone else awake yet?”
“Not as far as I know, sir.”
“Thank you. Carry on.”
Walker went on his way while William walked to the dining room.
The second he entered the door, Richard exclaimed, “Darcy! With all that happened yesterday, I believed you would not come down until much later.”
Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple Page 78