Chapter Fourteen #3
“And what has that meant to you? Yes, you have a small bit of power and riches beyond imagination, but I have done nothing except lay heartache at your door. I forced you into a marriage you did not want, and when I should have been a better man, I slew your one true love.” He spat out the last part as though he had eaten a rotten egg.
He turned his gaze away from her, and Elizabeth’s stomach dropped. She put a hand over it, rubbing gently. She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. The answer was clear even as she asked the question.
“What do you mean?”
“George is dead. I killed him myself.”
Tears fell for her childhood sweetheart, the boy she had loved.
Had loved, but no longer. The tears were for the friend she used to have, not the creature of obsession and vengeance that he had become.
“I had no illusions that George might not survive an encounter with you. I am sorry for that, I truly am, but you did what you needed to do to protect our family.”
“You loved him.”
“Is that what you believe?”
“It is what I know.”
“I see.” She rubbed her hands over the tiny bump beneath her gown again. “William, why have you not looked at me since you arrived?”
“I cannot. I shall not have the strength to release you from your contract if I look upon what I am trying to give up.”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Damn you!” she wailed, her voice breaking like a wave on a beach. “Look at me!”
* * *
He did then, knowing his resolve to do the right thing would be lost in that moment.
Her beautiful face was plumper and her breasts a little fuller.
A person who might have first met her would never have guessed the reasons, but Darcy, having such an intimate knowledge of her form, comprehended the change instantly.
His hand reached for her, and when she stepped forward, he caressed the small swell beneath the silk.
Touching her again was the salve his wounded soul needed, and before he could check himself, his lips were pressed to hers and the salt of her tears was on his tongue.
He embraced her with all his strength, fearing she might disappear if he let go.
“Ours?” he asked as if he could not believe his own eyes.
“Of course,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “To mark the occasion when I first said my husband's name.”
That day seemed like a lifetime ago, and he fought to make the memory clear within his head once again.
Her face had kept him alive on the battlefield, but every touch, every smile, every word had folded together into a collective feeling of need and warmth that had seen him through the long nights of his self-imposed exile.
“Rumours reached me that my lover had died. Jane tried so hard to protect me, so I did not hint that I had heard. Nobody seemed sure which lover that might have been, and I have lived in agony these last weeks.”
“He did die. I killed him myself.”
Elizabeth shook her head, her tears squeezing through her closed eyes.
“I did not want to. You must believe me. I knew the pain it would give you, but he gave me no choice. He attacked me after I offered a truce. He attacked me.”
“I am sorry George is dead, truly, but you misunderstand. I was a fool not to say anything before. This is the sole truth I have ever concealed, and yet it is simply the most important truth of my life. I did not think you would believe me, but I must say it now.
“I love you. I have loved you. I do love you. I will love you.”
He sat down so hard in the closest chair that it groaned beneath his weight. All he could do then was to stare at his beautiful wife. “How?”
“I do not know! How does the sun rise? How does a dog know that the earth will shake? How did I fall in love with a brute? Why is that important? Can it not be enough that it is? Must I explain myself?” She sat in the chair opposite him.
“No, no. How can you love me after everything I have done to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“He means how can you love him after he came to me, begging me to ruin George and your Papa in order to secure your hand.”
* * *
Elizabeth's head flew around to see Caroline in the doorway. The viper’s cold, toothy grin flashed like lightning, and she slipped into their sacred space. The cruel lady surveyed the large chamber and nodded her approval.
“'Tis a fine abode, but I shall have a new bed made when I am High Lady.”
“That is presumptuous, even for you, Caroline,” Elizabeth hissed.
She turned to her husband, but he was no more than a defeated sack of flesh, and for an instant, she did loathe him.
“However, I know you would say anything to turn me against William. You tell nothing but lies, and I can tell the truth from lies, witch.”
“Ask your husband, my lady,” Caroline sneered. “Ask what he wanted that night in my chambers at Netherfield. Before I bedded him, that is.”
“William,” Elizabeth asked. “It is not true. You did not ask her for a spell.”
He merely nodded.
She was struck dumb for a moment. What had she said again and again?
The past was the past? She had never been so aware of how directly her words had affected her future.
Had it not been for a few uttered syllables George would be alive, Papa's health would be better, and she would still be a country gentleman's daughter.
Had it not been for a few uttered syllables, she would never have returned to her seat on a horse, she would not have a friend in Jane, and she would not be carrying the child of her one true love.
With a little effort, she slipped down to her knees before her husband and took his hands in hers.
“The man I fell in love with is somewhere inside this vile self-made prison. That dark heart is not your true heart. Your true heart loves me, loves our child. The strong, clever, proud man is in that heart, and I need him. We need him. I forgive you. I have told you that the past is the past. Let us learn from the mistakes we have made. Somewhere, someone special made a plan, and in that plan, we were meant for each other, no exceptions. I forgive you. I forgive you.”
“No!” Caroline cried. “That is not how it is supposed to end! He is mine. He has always been mine!”
Struggling for a moment to stand, Elizabeth managed it with grace. Proud and strong, she faced her enemy, glowering with all the anger, frustration, and sadness she had held within her soul for weeks. Her hands covered her belly, drawing attention to the babe inside her. The witch fumed.
“The child he has given you can just as easily be stolen away!”
“No, it cannot.” William’s voice was as icy as Elizabeth's glare. “Witch, you will not threaten my wife or my child. I shall see you burn for your crimes.”
“You seem to forget, my lord. If I am exposed, then you shall be too. If I die, all your power dies with me.”
“Back in my more wicked days I took great pains to abolish any proof of our relationship, Lady Caroline. And who will believe the accusations of a witch who is desperate to save herself?”
The cruel, immoral yet powerful Lord Darcy of long ago seemed reborn before her very eyes, and it was a strange yet wondrous sight to behold.
He stood tall, his imposing figure towering over them both.
She stepped aside, allowing him to grab the witch about the throat. William pinned her against the wall.
“I have killed men for less than the torture you have inflicted upon me. I will not tolerate any further interference from you. I love my wife, I love my child, and I would never abandon them for the likes of you. Your ways are old, and your future is dark. Take heed of my warning and you will walk away from this. Threaten me again and you will die.”
He released her. She tumbled back against the wall, her eyes wide and frightened as she gasped for air.
“You will lose,” she rasped. “In all of this, you shall be the one to lose.”
He leaned forward, a humourless grin on his face as his eyes became level with hers. Softly, his voice dead calm, he said, “Ah, but, Caroline, I just won.”
“Nay!” She cried. “Gads! It was not a threat. It was a warning. The Fates! They spoke!”
William opened the door and called for the guards at the end of the hall. When they appeared, he tossed the witch at them.
“Take her to the dungeon and inform her brother that I need to speak with him in the morning.”
“Yes, my lord.”
* * *
Caroline whimpered and whined and wailed as she was dragged away, but it all fell on deaf ears. Darcy closed the door and turned back to his wife. Her warm, loving eyes made him soften again.
“For a moment, I thought I had lost you to the man you were when I met you,” she whispered. “For a moment, I thought we had lost you.”
“Neither of you shall ever lose me. I have serious doubts about letting you out of my sight ever again. She will pay. She reduced me to a quivering, terrified lump of man, and I shall not forgive that. There will be justice for her sins.”
“And what of your sins, my lord?” Elizabeth asked, her question solemn.
“I do not know,” he replied. Had she truly forgiven him? This was at the summit of his needs now.
“I saw the haunted look in your eyes, and I knew George attacked you. I know you as nobody on this earth knows you, and I know you will regret what has transpired for the rest of your days.”
He sighed and turned away in shame.
She touched his arm to turn him back towards her. “But do not let it get the better of you, my William. Know that your wife and your child love you regardless. Pray, let us offer the past our regrets and start this, a brand-new day. Shall we go from this point together?”
“I wish for nothing more.”
“Then it is done. We are a family who has chosen to stay together, and we have naught greater than everything to live for.”
He kissed her then like he had never kissed her before, and beneath his hand was their child. The truth of their love was the most gorgeous truth of his life.
FINIS