Chapter 26 If I be Waspish, Beware of my Sting #3
“He apparently suggested a slight defect, not the resulting indecency, and he denied having anything to do with the drawing. He asserted that Mrs Bean was suffering from financial constraints and might be culpable for that part, something I have lately discovered to be true. He flatly denies having anything to do with the rescinded invitations to our ball and all the gossip that has sullied our name for the last months.”
“Do you believe him?” Lady Louise wanted to know.
“I cannot decide. It is likely him, since he admitted to the added purchases.
At the same time, I doubt it because he has always been tenacious in his protection of the Darcy name.
Whilst knowing full well that purchasing frippery and lace would irk me, it would not damage our reputation in the same manner as the rest of our troubles have done.
As a precaution, I have ordered him to withdraw from society and have threatened to revoke his allowance should I discover he is culpable for more than he has admitted to.
“After our unsuccessful ball, Elizabeth begged me to travel to Pemberley and forgo the rest of the Season. In a retrospective light, I admit she was right. At my estate, we shall not consort with the highest circles, but I have pleasant neighbours who have too much sense to snub us. I suggest we travel thither when we return to England and forget all about London for the foreseeable future.”
Mr Darcy turned to his wife.
“Would that be an amenable solution to you, dearest?”
“No,” Elizabeth replied firmly.
“But…I thought that was what you wished, and I am loath to subject you to any more slander.”
“This is war, Darcy, and I intend to win it. Let me show you to our room and I shall tell you all about it.”
“Elizabeth!” Lady Louise warned her granddaughter.
“We are married, Grandmother.”
“As long as it is what you want.”
“It is,” Elizabeth assured her. If she was to be honest, she had missed her husband dreadfully.
“I expect an explanation later, Lizzy. I can detect no improper pride in your Mr Darcy…”
Elizabeth grabbed Darcy’s hand and hauled him to her spacious suite of rooms. Once inside her bedchamber, she released him. He walked to the window, while she remained just inside the door, wondering what to do next.
Her husband did not even look at her but folded his hands behind his rigid back. What had she thought would happen? That they would leap on each other in wild abandon?
“It is not lust.” Darcy spoke sotto voce.
A surge of disappointment rose in her chest. What had she expected? The gentleman would not forgive her so easily.
“It is not only lust—my love for you.”
“I never thought that it was.”
She approached him then, laced her arms around his waist, and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
He sagged under her gentle ministrations, and a shuddering hot breath wafted over her hands.
The strain in him thrummed through her body.
The suppressed force of the man was palpable.
She raised her head and watched a bead of perspiration trace his temple and travel down his jaw, which darkened with the beginnings of a beard.
Emotions cascaded in her mind, and she yearned to stroke his chest and his fine, lean form, but that was not what he needed.
She abandoned all such thoughts to comfort the man she loved.
“You are safe with me.”
“Elizabeth,” his voice was a choke of near disbelief. “God help me…I cannot lose you.”
“I cleave to you.”
Darcy’s chest began to swell with the wind of passion, and he turned in her arms. He must have deciphered the want in her expression because he gifted her with a smouldering gaze that melted her insides.
How she had missed him—missed them. A primal yearning rose from deep within; with urgency she grabbed his neck to pull his head down.
His surprise made him hesitate before he complied and lowered his head to allow her hungry lips to roam freely.
She wrenched the waistcoat off his shoulders and nearly strangled him tugging at his intricately tied cravat.
Soon they were a unified tangle of limbs with no end and no beginning.
Elizabeth was ravenous and insatiable for her lover’s favours.
Once spent, she snuggled close and held onto him with all her might.
“Elizabeth, are you well?” Darcy whispered in her ear.
“No.” She admitted freely, though warmed by his concern. “I have missed you so much. But I am concerned about Lydia. Her future is by no means settled.”
“Hush, dearest. We shall find a solution, if you promise to never leave me again. I cannot bear it.”
Elizabeth exhaled a long and cleansing breath. “I promise.”
He touched the ringlets framing her face. “I love your chestnut brown hair, interspersed with iridescent copper rays. It is extremely soft to touch, and there is nothing more attractive than when it is down, resting on your apple dumpling shop.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh my, you are crude, Mr Darcy, talking about my breasts in such a manner. I have never heard you speak cant before.”
“And how do you know that expression?” Darcy wiggled his brows.
“One learns a great deal taking a merchant ship to Kiel. Apple dumpling shop indeed.” At Darcy’s incredulous expression, it was incumbent upon her to explain. “Lydia and I spoke only German after we boarded the Freihandel. The men on board did not know that we spoke English as well.”
Darcy growled and swore to protect her from the sailors on their return voyage.
#
Whilst waiting for Queen Charlotte’s answer to their request for an audience, Darcy used the opportunity to become better acquainted with Count Reimarus and Lord Ritterhof. Elizabeth was content listening to the gentlemen’s intelligent conversation.
“Do you have a supplier of cognac and wine to recommend?” Darcy suddenly asked the count. “My cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam spent his three weeks of leave depleting my cellar, and it is in dire need of restocking.”
“Of course. I shall call my man tomorrow. Colonel Fitzwilliam, you say. I believe I met the man in Altstadt.”
“Quite possibly because I know he has been there on diplomatic business. He is in Copenhagen at present but mentioned that he might visit later this summer.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam was here at the end of last year,” Lord Ritterhof added with certainty. “He is a great connoisseur of fine wine and cigars.”
“I loathe cigars,” Lydia muttered.
“Is importing cognac not illegal?” Elizabeth interrupted lest Lydia launch into her usual rant against men and their foul-smelling cigars. It had not escaped her notice that Lord Ritterhof had lately given up the habit…
Darcy looked bewildered at first. “We have French wine in our cellar and drank champagne at our ball.”
“But, but…what if the Prince Regent were to discover it? You would be thrown into Newgate and hang by the morning.”
Darcy raised his eyebrows at her. “I am touched by your concern, but I very much doubt it. It is more likely that he would order several cases for himself. The Prince Regent is, after all, very fond of French wine…”
“Can it truly be so?” Elizabeth would rather not see her husband hang, now that they were so happily reconciled.
“Prinny is prone to turn a blind eye to the crimes that benefit himself.”
“Oh… Like Admiral Nelson at the Battle of Copenhagen?”
“Exactly.”