Chapter Fifteen #2
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Truthfully, I doubt it. We have a great many responsibilities, particularly at Pemberley. But such moments as these will be the sweeter for it.”
“I am greatly looking forward to Pemberley,” Elizabeth said. “I am all anticipation to see where you spent your youth. But that is not what I meant,” she told him uncertainly. “I suppose I wish to know—this feeling between us . . .”
“Yes?” he prompted when it did not appear as though she would continue.
“Promise me that this is how you will always think of us,” she said, placing her small hand over his heart, “just as we are today. As deeply in love as we are at this moment.”
“An easy promise to make,” he told her. “I shall.” He watched as her nose wrinkled.
“No matter how often I vex or tease you?” She peered up into his face.
She truly had no idea. “I enjoy it when you vex and tease me.”
“William . . .” she chastised him.
He recalled from his brief acquaintance with her family that her parents neither truly respected nor valued the other.
“Yes, Elizabeth Darcy,” he said quietly.
“But you fail to understand that this is only the beginning. Our love will continue to grow, even through adversity. It will never be less than it is now—though I cannot fathom how it is possible to love you more than I do at this moment, I do expect our love to grow even greater and more profound as we live our lives together.”
Elizabeth embraced him, and Darcy held her close, relieved to have stumbled upon what she needed to hear.
He had spoken from his heart, never an easy thing to do, but perhaps with Elizabeth—perhaps it was what she needed.
Darcy jumped when he felt her mouth on his, but when she stiffened at his surprise and began to pull away, he would not allow it.
He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her deeply, allowing her to draw what reassurance she could from him.
“I love you, William,” she murmured.
The best way to cheer Elizabeth when she was nervous or unsure was to annoy her. He was good at that. “I know.”
She pulled away slightly to scowl at him, and he laughed. How could he not? She was very much like an angry kitten when she pulled such a face. Of course, her claws could be just as sharp. “I love you, too, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth leaned her head against his shoulder and played with a ribbon on the cuff of her dressing gown. “When must you fight Mr. Howard?”
“We will meet tomorrow, but I am not really fighting him, love,” Darcy reassured her.
“It is only a match. He knows I do not duel, and until recent events, I would have said he felt the same. A public set-down is the best I can do under the circumstances, and he has never been more than an average fencer. There will be money and insults exchanged, I am sure, but no blood will be spilt.”
Wrapping the end of the ribbon around her finger, Elizabeth said, “His anger is incomprehensible.”
“It is.”
“Your cousins will make sure he does not try to injure you?”
“He may try, my dear, but he will not succeed,” he said confidently. “I am very good with a foil and his men are in either in Newgate or back in Meryton awaiting court martial.”
She took his hand and Darcy’s heart swelled to see her concern for him. “Still, it is better that you will have family with you.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Elizabeth leaned her head against his shoulder. “Have you and the colonel always been close?” she asked. “Jane and I have always been the best of friends, though I am sure I tried even her patience when we were young.” She smiled wanly. “Perhaps even now.”
Sated by a few days of excellent food and loving his wife, Darcy was in a contemplative mood.
“Fitz and I played together as boys, but Matlock is too far from Pemberley for us to spend a great deal of time together. When I was eleven, my mother fell ill and died here in London. The Fitzwilliams came, but they spent their time with my father and sister.”
“Even Henry and Fitz?” Elizabeth asked.
Darcy smirked. “Although he both looks and behaves like a child, Henry is nearly twelve years my senior. He was already an adult.” Elizabeth waited as he gathered his thoughts.
“I was at an age where one both wishes to weep and does not wish to appear weak. I do not think Fitz knew what to make of me.”
“Oh, William.” Elizabeth was all sympathy.
He bestowed a kiss on the back of her hand.
“I was deeply unhappy, and I missed my father. Georgiana was just a babe and was kept in the nursery. Fitz was hiding. Father spent all day with my uncle and Henry and worked late into the evening here in his study. I realize now how terribly he must have been struggling, but at the time, I felt abandoned.”
Elizabeth made a small sound of commiseration.
“Finally, I remembered the room. One night, I dragged some bedding down here and made myself a pallet near the fire before my father arrived.” He closed his eyes, remembering.
“I thought at least I could be closer to Papa without bothering him. The very first night, Fitz found me. He was thirteen then, already at school. I thought he would tease me, but instead, he sat near the fire. All night.” Darcy rubbed the back of his neck.
“He never said a word. We neither of us slept. He just sat there, next to me, all night.”
Elizabeth quietly embraced him.
“I thought we had been quiet enough to escape detection,” Darcy said, holding her.
“But when we returned the following evening, there was a little bed in the corner. Fitz and I slept there until his family went home, and for perhaps six months, I returned each night while my father worked, and woke up each morning in my room upstairs.” He kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head.
“I joined Fitz at school about a year later, and the boys bullied me because I was so unhappy. I missed my mother. I missed my father. But Fitz was there. It was better,” he said stoically, “because I knew I could count on at least one person. Fitz was that person for me.”
“And he still is,” Elizabeth added.
Darcy nodded. “He still is.”
Elizabeth was silent for a time. Finally, she said, “I feel a great deal better knowing he will accompany you tomorrow.” She pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. “Even so, I wish that women could attend. I prefer to know what is happening to being left at home in anxiety.”
Darcy shook the gloom away and glanced at the copy of Twelfth Night she had discarded. “Oh no,” he told her firmly. “There will be no disguising yourself as a man so that you may attend, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth blinked at him, bemused. So that had not been on her mind. Her eyes followed his to the book, and as her countenance lit up, he groaned. Would he never learn to stop guessing at her thoughts? Now he had given her ideas.
“Do not be concerned,” she told him teasingly, standing carefully and reaching out to the chair where he had neatly folded his trousers. She shook them out and held them up. “I do not believe these will fit.”
Fit? There was nearly enough material there for a walking dress. He chuckled. “You might start a new fashion.”
“It would certainly be warmer in the winter,” she replied, and fell silent. She folded his trousers as well as Slipworth ever had and replaced them on the chair. Then she took his face in her hands and bent down for a kiss.
Elizabeth lay awake long into the night, listening to her husband’s soft snores.
He had given her much to think on. He was a private man by circumstance as much as by preference, and sharing such a story with her was an indication of his deep and abiding trust. She took the protection of that trust more seriously than anything she had in her entire life.
Could merely telling her about his life be enough, though?
Should she not do more to help him shoulder his burdens?
To alleviate the problem that faced him, that faced them both?
He had assured her that he was unconcerned about seeing Mr. Howard, but Elizabeth could not help but think there must be a better way to resolve everything.
William had said that he had been used to thinking of Mr. Howard as a man of principle.
There had to be a reason Mr. Howard was behaving in this vile manner.
Because she could not rest, she began to review everything they had learned about the man.
It kept her awake several hours more, her brain refusing to quiet, but eventually, she could not keep her eyes open any longer.
She slept deeply for a few hours and was awakened by sounds in the hallway.
She sat up, stretched, and then, something occurred to her.
Lady Montagu had mentioned Emma Doughty’s schoolfriend as being a purveyor of gossip about Miss Howard.
Georgiana was no longer at school, but she did have friends.
There was a link between the Darcys and the Howards, more than William knowing Mr. Howard—the girls.
Girls who had been together frequently in London a year ago.
They had been together as late as March, at least, learning everything they would need to enter the ton.
And gossip—learning it and using it—was undoubtedly one of those lessons.
It was certainly worth speaking to Georgiana one more time.
Elizabeth turned to tell her husband, but looking about the room, she realized that William was not there.
There was a note on the bed table, and she opened it eagerly.
“Elizabeth,” it said, “I will be home as soon as I may. Take the carriage to the Matlocks or the Gardiners if you do not wish to remain here on your own. I have left orders to have it ready for you.” He had signed it, “All my love, William.”
He had left her the carriage. How long had he been gone? Panic shot through her, and she nearly leapt from the bed. She rang for the maid and rushed to prepare herself for the day.