Deception

by Ola Wegner

  When Mrs. Collins left them alone in order to see to Elizabeth’s bath, Darcy sat on the edge of the narrow bed on which she reclined, taking her hand.

  “I do not want to leave you alone after the ordeal you have been through today. Still,” he sighed. “It would be improper for me to stay with you.”

  “I know.” She moved, wincing slightly.

  It alerted Darcy instantly. “Are you in pain?”

  “Yes,” she acknowledged reluctantly.

  “Where?” he put his hands on her, wanting to examine her, but she slapped them.

  “It is nothing serious…,” she replied as she settled herself more comfortably, putting a small pillow under her back, which brought her some relief.

  Darcy was staring at her, a genuine concern written on his face.

  She rolled her eyes. “My back parts are sore,” she admitted shyly, but seeing his amused reaction to her words, she frowned at him. “Do not dare to laugh at me. I have no idea how one can find anything pleasing in horse riding.”

  He kept smiling at her. “I will be happy to instruct you to ride properly one day at Pemberley.”

  “No, thank you,” Elizabeth scowled at him.

  Darcy chuckled, shook his head, and before she could protest, moved swiftly, settling himself on the head of the bed, pulling her to him, so that her back was against his chest. “Let me,” he said, as he pushed her slightly forward, his hand moving down her back to massage the area at the base of her spine.

  She was startled at first, but soon, a rather unladylike groan escaped her. “It feels good,” she murmured, blushing furiously, while his warm hand kept rubbing the small of her back. “Thank you.”

  He bent to kiss the nape of her neck, his arm supporting her from the front.

  “William,…” she paused, “you believe me… you do believe me, please say that you do.”

  He frowned, his hand on her back stopping its movement. “About?”

  She sighed and shivered. “That he did not ruin me…”

  “Yes.” His hand resumed its stroking, “But I do understand that he tried...”

  “Yes.” She turned into his arms and looked up at him, two big tears rolling down her cheeks. “And it was true what he said before you started to hit him again…”

  “Shush….” Darcy cradled her to him again, kissing her hair. “You do not have to tell me about it.”

  “No, I want to…,” she whispered, her face hidden on his arm. “In the carriage, he pushed me down on the seat, laid on me, and started touching me where… I always thought only my husband one day would have right to… But I begged him to stop, and he did. He let me go. Then the carriage stopped, and I managed to run away…”

  Darcy kept rocking her.

  “You want me still, after what I told you?” she asked when he said nothing for a longer moment.

  He pushed her from him, cupping her face, making her look at him. “I love you.”

  “Yes, but every gentleman expects his wife to be untouched.”

  “But you are untouched, you protected yourself,” he spoke, looking steadily into her eyes. “I can only admire your spirit and courage. We must be thankful that nothing worse happened than his daring to put his dirty hands on you. You will see, after our wedding, in time, you will forget about this. I will make sure that you will know and remember only my touch on you. And what happened today will be just a bad dream.”

  She seemed to hesitate for a moment before she asked, “But you would not want me any longer if he had….” She did not finish.

  “I cannot imagine not wanting you, no matter what might have happened. Believe me, I have tried.” He let out a heavy sigh, “But I will not lie to you. It would probably have been difficult for me to come to terms with it. I presume I would have killed him, and any man who would have forced himself on you or Georgiana. I barely stopped myself today and last summer.”

  Elizabeth eyes widened. “Last summer?” she gaped at him. “Does it mean that what he said about Georgiana and Mr. Wickham was true?”

  “Yes. Fortunately my sister trusted me with her secret before the planned elopement actually took place.”

  “How horrible! Poor Georgiana! And Mr. Wickham,. . . he seems so…” she searched for the right word. “…so agreeable, so trustworthy.”

  “Oh, yes, he certainly does. One thing George Wickham can certainly do well is recommend himself to strangers.”

  Elizabeth was shaking her head, as if trying to comprehend what she had been told, when she looked up abruptly at Darcy. “Does it mean that what Brooke told me about you is the truth as well?”

  Darcy raised his brow. “About my supposed illicit affairs?”

  Elizabeth nodded slowly, her eyes wide.

  Darcy laughed. “No, no mistress and no out of wedlock children, though I do hope to have at least one or two little ones running around through Pemberley in the years to come.” He grinned at her. “Still, I do intend to acquire them in a most legitimate way…,” he paused, leaning towards her, and murmuring in low voice, his large, warm hand resting heavily on the top of her thigh. “through the marriage bed.”

  Elizabeth lowered her head, blushing bright red, and produced a small embarrassed smile. “Stop that,” she whispered.

  “Stop what?” he enquired innocently, his hand moving very slowly up her body.

  Her blush increased. “You know what.” She stopped his hand just below the ribbon decorating her dress under her bosom.

  “Oh, I think I will not, because I do see that my teasing is vastly improving your spirits,” he said warmly, combing the curls which escaped the pins away from her face.

  Elizabeth rested her head on his shoulder. “I was very fortunate. I cannot believe I once trusted him.”

  “I should have perceived he would try something,” he whispered, squeezing her to him, “I will never let you out of my sight,” he added, before pushing her away from him, speaking seriously. “Elizabeth we must marry as soon as can be.”

  “But I must talk to Papa, to explain everything to him.” she protested. “I am sure that he will understand and give us his consent, in time of course. He never seemed to like Mr. Brooke. Still he barely knows you, so he will likely be apprehensive at the beginning…”

  “Sweetheart,” Darcy interrupted her gently. “There might not be time for that, for returning to Longbourn and courting you properly. We cannot be sure what Brooke will do now. He will probably try to use all his influence to ruin your good name, your reputation. And as he is well respected in Meryton, people know and trust him.”

  Elizabeth frowned, biting her lip worriedly.

  “He may make himself a victim,” Darcy continued. “He can tell everyone that you eloped with me, or even worse, that we have no intention to seal our union. What I mean is that we must return to Longbourn already married.”

  “But my parents, my sisters…,” she tried to protest.

  “Trust me, It is for the best that we marry immediately.” Darcy’s voice was firm now. “I understand that you have some relatives in London.”

  She nodded.

  “Perhaps you could stay with them till I secure the special license?”

  “Oh, yes, I am sure they will agree.”

  “What is their name?” he wanted to know.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner,” she said quietly, and then lifted her chin up as if in a challenge. “They live in Cheapside.”

  Darcy regarded her for a moment. “You said Gardiner?” he asked sharply.

  Elizabeth nodded, surprised with his tone. “Yes, Gardiner. Uncle Edward is my mother’s brother,” she explained, and when he still looked at her as if he did not comprehend, she added. “Gardiner is my mother’s maiden name.”

  “Edward Gardiner? Are you certain?” he asked unbelievably.

  “William, I do remember my uncle’s name.”

  “And he is in trade, yes?”

  “Yes. His house is close to his warehouses. We visit them ever year,
my sister Jane and I. I like them very much, especially my aunt. I am sure they will have nothing against my staying with them for a few days in this situation. My aunt even once suggested I should be careful with Mr. Brooke. She said that he was well known for his ruthlessness in business. I know they will understand our haste once we explain everything to them.”

  Darcy kept staring at her with unseeing eyes, as if he had not heard her, a heavy frown on his forehead.

  “Is something wrong?” Elizabeth asked, touching his hand.

  He shook his head. “No… No.” He shrugged his arm, “That is not possible.” he murmured more to himself than to Elizabeth. “Gardiner is a common name.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Collins entered. “The bath is ready.”

  Elizabeth smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  “Mr. Darcy.” Charlotte glanced pointedly at the clock on the mantelpiece. “It is quite late, and my friend is tired.”

  Darcy bowed. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Collins. I only ask for a moment to bid goodnight to Miss Bennet, and I will be going.”

  Charlotte nodded, smiled, and walked out of the room.

  Darcy cupped Elizabeth’s face. “If you are able, we will travel to London tomorrow morning.”

  “I am.”

  “Good. You will stay with your relatives till I secure the special license. Then we shall be married and return to Longbourn.” He kissed her lips gently. “Sleep well, sweetheart. And do not worry about a thing. I love you.”

  Darcy was at the door when he turned to her again. “Elizabeth, what is you aunt’s maiden name?”

  Elizabeth met his eyes curiously, answering slowly. “I do not know. I was a little girl when she married my uncle. I never thought to ask her that.”

  “I see.” He looked as if he wanted to ask her more, but he only smiled the last time and walked out of the room.

  When he left the room, Elizabeth shook her head, whispering to herself. “No, that cannot be possible, can it?”

  ***

  Darcy entered the manor, Georgiana waiting for him in the great hall together with his cousin.

  “How is she?” she asked, running to him

  Darcy smiled tiredly at his little sister. “She is fine. We are going to London tomorrow. Please tell your maid to have your things packed and prepared to leave in the morning.”

  “Is she coming with us?”

  “Yes.”

  Georgiana clapped her hands happily, and after bidding goodnight to her guardians, ran lightly upstairs.

  “I could not convince her to go to bed.” Colonel Fitzwilliam walked to Darcy. “She informed me she would wait till your return. Her sweet disposition can be misleading in times, as she can be very stubborn when she sets her mind on something.”

  Darcy smiled proudly. “Yes, a true Darcy.”

  Colonel’s expression sobered. “How is Miss Bennet?”

  “Better. She is slowly returning to her own impertinent self.” Darcy acknowledged dryly.

  The colonel chuckled. “You know, Darcy, it amazes me the way Miss Bennet…,” he hesitated, “let me just say, influences you. Good God, man!” he cried, “She wrapped/wraps you around her little finger, and you even do not seem to mind.”

  Darcy shrugged. “Because I do not mind.”

  Lady Catherine walked in, interrupting the cousins’ conversation. “Fitzwilliam tells me that you recovered Miss Bennet.” she said to Darcy.

  “Yes, we did,” Darcy confirmed.

  Her ladyship narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, and how is she?”

  “Unharmed.”

  “I am glad to hear it, but truly, Darcy I cannot understand why both of you rushed so quickly to her rescue. She is promised to that man, after all.”

  “She has never been promised to him,” Darcy said, barely controlling irritation in his voice.

  “Brooke took her against her will,” Colonel Fitzwilliam supported him quickly.

  Lady Catherine regarded her nephews carefully before she spoke. “I do agree that the idea of elopement, when there are no obstacles to the marriage, is very inappropriate, and for sure, Miss Bennet would wish to have the usual wedding celebrations, but what was done was done. You should have not intervened into the private affairs of Mr. Brooke. You made the whole situation a lot worse for Miss Bennet as well. What will she do now, after being involved in such a scandal? He may not wish to marry her now at all.”

  Darcy chose not to comment on this. “Aunt, we return to London tomorrow,” he informed her only.

  “So soon?”

  “Yes. I have some very urgent business in town.”

  “It cannot be that urgent.” Lady Catherine noted, her tone displeased.

  “Good night, Aunt.” Darcy bowed. “Sleep well.”

  The colonel bid his goodnight as well, and both cousins headed toward the staircase.

  “Darcy, I intend to take Anne to London in the beginning of May.” Lady Catherine said when her nephews were already on the staircase steps. “Do you plan to stay in London till summer?”

  “I cannot say now, Aunt. My plans are not fixed. But, of course, you and Anne are always most welcome in my home.” He bowed respectfully.

  “I see, Darcy, that you have learned to deal with Lady Catherine,” Colonel Fitzwilliam whispered when they were out of their aunt’s earshot.

  “I am a grown man,” Darcy spoke, stopping in front of his room. “I shall have my own family soon. It is high time she stopped treating me like a little boy whom she can order around,” he said firmly, but then his expression softened, “Good night, Richard. Thank you for everything. I am in your debt, Cousin.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled. “If that is so, I reserve myself to be the godfather to your firstborn.”

  “We shall be honoured,” Darcy assured his cousin, and the men embraced briefly, before stepping into their rooms.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elizabeth opened her heavy eyelids and frowned. She stared at the fire dying in the unfamiliar, elaborately decorated, marble mantelpiece. It had to be quite an early hour in the morning, as the grey light was seeping into the room through the crack in the heavy, dark, velvet curtains. Her eyes moved higher, and she saw the dark brown wall coverings. Her frown deepened. What a gloomy room, she thought. Where was she?

  Then a soft sigh above her ear engaged her attention, and the understanding of her current situation dawned on her. She turned her head slightly to see Mr. Darcy snuggled to her back, his heavy arm draped loosely over her middle. Very gently, so as not to wake him, she turned on her back, and gazed at him.

  That he looked so young was her first thought, young and vulnerable. His brown hair was mussed, and dark stubble covered his cheeks and chin. Last night, she had not really had the opportunity to take a good look at him in his less formal state. She decided to take her time now. What long eyelashes he has, like a lady/lady’s. Her eyes moved lower. Nice neck too, she thought. The top ties of his nightshirt were open, and her gaze rested on the top planes of his broad chest. Reaching forth her hand, she patted gently, the pelt of curly chest hair peeking out the opening of his shirt. Who could have thought him to be so hairy? She glanced at his arm, still draped over her middle. The sleeve was rolled up, and there was hair on it too. It almost reached his knuckles. She wondered briefly about other places where he grew hair.

  She glanced down at her hand, where a beautiful ring decorated her middle finger, his mother’s ring, as he had said to her. Good gracious, she was actually married to Mr. Darcy. Who could have thought? A little over a week ago, she thought herself to be practically engaged to a completely different man. She shrugged inwardly when she thought about Mr. Brooke. Thankfully they had not heard a word from him since that horrible day in Kent when he had tried to kidnap her.

  Her musings stopped when she felt her husband moving beside her. She stilled herself.

  “Elizabeth?” he murmured thickly in a sleepy voice. “You are awake.” His eyelids were only half open.


  “I have just woken up, and I felt confused about my whereabouts when I saw the unfamiliar room,” she whispered softly.

  He smiled, already closing his eyes. “Go back to sleep.” He gathered her tightly into his arms, her back to his chest. “It is too early to get up.” He yawned. “Especially in London.”

  She tried to obey him, but she could not fall asleep. With every minute, she felt more and more pressure on her bladder, which was quite usual in her case early in the morning. After some ten minutes of deliberation, she turned her head again and saw that he was sound asleep.

  Gathering her courage, she began moving away from him. She was almost freed from his embrace, when she was effortlessly pinned back to his chest. “Don’t go,” he murmured.

  “William, I must,” she tried to unsuccessfully move his hand away from her waist. “Please, let me go.”

  “You did mention being an early raiser, but I did not expect…” he started sleepily, but she interrupted him.

  “I simply need to refresh myself.”

  “Oh.” He shifted onto his back. “The chamber pot is in my dressing room,” he pointed to the door on his side of the bed and closed his eyes again.

  Elizabeth flushed bright red, not knowing where to hide her eyes. How could he be so indelicate, and so… crude? She was deeply convinced that a gentleman should not refer to such body functions in the presence of his bride, or any lady whatsoever. It was highly mortifying and embarrassing.

  She found her pretty robe, abandoned on a chair last evening, and put it on over her own nightgown and William’s shirt she wore. Then she padded to the dressing room.

  He had insisted she wear one of his long linen shirts over her nightgown. It reached to her knees and covered well her upper body in a kind of large, shapeless tent. When she had entered his room last night, wearing the gown given to her especially for the occasion by her Aunt Madeline, he had first simply stared at her for a good deal of time. Then he had disappeared for a moment, returning with one of his shirts, asking her to put it on. He had explained that he would not be able to keep his resolution not to make love to her, with her wearing completely transparent attire, under which he could see everything.